The Flatmate
by silveris
Summary: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his threeday vacation to Scotland.
1. Best Buddies

Title: The Flatmate Author: silveris Rating: R Warnings: Not HBP-compatible Genre(s): Post-Hogwarts, slight humor Summary: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.  
AN: I'm sticking with the Italian!Blaise and completely ignoring the black Londoner JKR mentioned in HBP. As I said, this isn't entirely HBP-compatible.

o

Chapter One -- Best Buddies

Who knew teen wizards could get themselves in so much trouble? Apparently, Hermione Granger can answer that question since she worked in the new department of the Ministry of Magic. The Guidance for Underage Wizards wasn't even a year old yet, but Hermione had already been bombarded with reports that could have filled a file cabinet in five years.

Everyday was the same. Complaints about teenagers doing magic at home and getting in trouble because of some magical reason were what kept her busy day in and day out. Sometimes, she considered taking a week-long break but that meant she also had to leave the teenagers to wreak havoc upon wizarding society…er—households. (What was the difference?)

Just that week, her office was visited four times by the same fourteen-year-old boy who had a knack for doing the Leglocker Curse on everyone who stood below his bedroom window. It was ridiculous.

So it was a pretty hectic week, and it was a silent flat that greeted her on Saturday night. But although it was silent, it sure wasn't empty.

She stopped in her tracks for a minute, closing the door behind her with her back. Her eyebrows raised as she realized that the two figures clutching firewhiskies in their hands while slumped down on the table were her flatmate Blaise Zabini and his friend, Draco Malfoy.

Blaise was facing the other way and apparently was snoring. She knew his snore from anywhere. It was open-mouthed and wheezy. The half-empty bottle was swaying dangerously close to the edge of the table as his hand shifted a bit.

Draco, meanwhile, was facing the door. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, save for the disheveled hair, one hand splayed across the table while the other was holding a bottle. Well, actually, he wasn't holding it. His index finger was inserted into the mouth and stuck there.

Hermione chuckled a bit. They looked so haplessly adorable. She was tempted to run to her room and take her Polaroid camera to snap them, but before she could take three steps, Draco began to stir. So did Blaise.

In a drunken stupor, Draco sat upright. He looked groggy and he was frowning, as if upset to have been woken up. Blaise was sitting up, too, and had set the half-empty bottle down on the floor. He was already rubbing his eyes.

Draco moved to do the same, but yelped when the bottle that was stuck to his finger hit his eye and forehead.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed as he pulled the bottle off, threw it aside (but didn't break because it landed on the carpet) and patted his forehead in pain.

"Good morning, boys." Hermione chose that time to speak. She inched towards the table and pulled up a chair. She tossed her purse towards the couch, which was a few feet away.

Blaise mumbled something and turned his head towards her, his light brown eyes going in and out of focus, before he said, "Hermione? Morning already?"

Draco looked around, puzzled, and consulted the view outside the window. It was still night, and judging by the clock next to the window, it was nearly midnight.

"It's nearly midnight," he announced. He shook his head one last time and pushed his chair back so he could stand.

"Where're you going?" Hermione asked a bit too quickly.

He didn't look at her as he slowly pulled his cloak on. Obviously, he was having a hard time as he kept missing the arm hole. Finally, after a few more tries, he gave up, folded his cloak, and swung it over his shoulder.

"Malfoy, where are you going?" Hermione asked again. She wasn't sure she wanted him roaming the streets in his current state. Nor did she think he'd succeed if he tried Apparating (he'd splinch himself) or using the Floo (he'd probably mutter an unknown location and be lost forever…right…).

He swayed a bit on the spot before steadying himself and said, "I'm going to the Leaky Cauldron. Celebrate!"

"What?" she asked.

Blaise stretched his arms and answered for him. He wasn't as drunk as Draco was. "Pansy broke up with him."

"Finally?" Hermione asked. She regretted the slight amusement in her voice.

Blaise didn't seem to notice and continued, "Yes, finally. Apparently, she 'found happiness in the arms of Greg, something she hasn't totally gotten from Draco', as she put it."

He paused to allow him and Hermione time to snigger.

"And what were you two doing here?" she asked.

Blaise retrieved the half-empty bottle from the floor and set it down on the table. "That," he said, "is the twelfth bottle we've had. I mean, that is my sixth bottle. Draco had seven. Wait, that doesn't add up correctly…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Well, at least Blaise was still a bit sane. Draco, on the other hand, was now silently swaying by the counter. He was taking a breather, she guessed.

"I'd better be going, mates! Still more bottles to drink! I am a free man!" he exclaimed as he stumbled towards the door.

However, when he completely missed the knob by a few feet, Hermione decided to put an end to his stupid and save him from further embarrassment, which was imminent. She got to her feet and pulled him away from the door and onto the chair she had been sitting on a while ago.

"Alright, Malfoy, time for you to shut up and get some sleep," she said as she cleared the bottles and glasses from the table and dumped them on the sink.

She glanced at Blaise as she poured the last contents of the bottles down the drain, and saw him sitting quietly, staring at the empty table before him. "Blaise, are you okay?"

He nodded. "I'm starting to feel a bit better now."

"Okay, good," she said. "Now, could you carry Malfoy over to the couch so he can sleep? He can't travel drunk."

She began to flick her wand, which made the sponges wash the dishes by themselves. Satisfied, she walked back to the table and grabbed Blaise's arm to pull him up. "Come on now, Blaise. I can't carry him. He weighs like a ton!"

"No, I don't!" Draco snapped, although still a bit unaware of the issue.

"Right, anyway," Hermione heaved at Blaise one more time until he stood up and clutched Draco's arm and easily pulled him up.

Soon, Draco was snoring slightly on the couch as if nothing had happened.

"Okay, now take off his shoes," she ordered. Blaise looked at her incredulously.

"No way. He may be my best bud, but I'm not smelling his feet. That's it for the night," Blaise said, scratching his head and yawning. "I'm off to bed. Night, Hermione." And he practically ran to his room.

Hermione sighed angrily. Why did they have to get themselves drunk anyway? Even if Pansy broke up with Draco, which was cause for celebration since he had been trying to break up with her a dozen times (and each time she thought he was just joking), that still didn't give him the license to act stupid and drink an entire lake of firewhisky in one night.

And they were so bold as to have her clean up their mess and take care of their groggy asses.

They were acting like teenagers…

…which brought Hermione to a stressful state, remembering the details of her day job.

With a heavy heart, she bent to remove his shoes, half-afraid they'd stain the couch covers. She thought she'd pass out by the smell of his feet, but she didn't. In fact, his feet didn't smell like anything at all.

She glanced up at him after she set his shoes down next to his cloak. He was beginning to snore now.

"You're going to have a heck of a hangover, you prick," she muttered as she stood up and studied his face one last time. "Good night, Malfoy."

And with that, she slowly ambled to her room to get a good night's rest.

o

…to be continued 


	2. Table for Three

Title: The Flatmate

Author: silveris

Rating: R

Warnings: Not HBP-compatible

Genre(s): Post-Hogwarts, slight humor

Summary: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.

AN: I'm sticking with the Italian!Blaise and completely ignoring the black Londoner JKR mentioned in HBP. As I said, this isn't entirely HBP-compatible.

o

Chapter Two -- Table for Three

Sluggishly, Hermione made her way towards her bed, kicked her sandals off, and collapsed on top of the bed facedown. She remained in that position for a good fifteen minutes, drifting in and out of consciousness. Her limbs felt like lead and there was a strange buzzing in her head. She was caught between getting up to change into her nightgown or just sleep in her work clothes.

When she began to feel stuffed, she decided to get up and change. Slowly, she lifted herself up with her arms and yawned. The she noticed her answering machine. There was a message waiting to be heard.

Thinking it could be someone from work, particularly her neurotic colleague Shirley, she crawled over to the bedside table and pushed the machine's button.

"Hi, Hermione. Harry here. Listen, Ron and I are having lunch at Bracelle Avenue tomorrow and we'd love it if you could join us. We haven't had lunch together for two weeks now. We miss you. Okay? Call back anytime."

Hermione smiled. Harry and Ron were pretty busy, too. Although she bet they had loads more fun with their jobs. They were Aurors, but unlike the Aurors of old who were hell-bent on hunting the now-destroyed Voldemort down, they were now branching out on keeping the peace in and out of wizarding society. They were more like policemen, only cooler, because they could do magic and had an air of being secret agents about them.

After Harry killed off Voldemort, the former became even more famous (which was an understatement) and rich. Everyone expected him to retire the crime-busting lifestyle since he had no reason to work his ass off anymore, but he continued on to become an Auror. Ron strung along, of course.

Then the two men were taken in to be Seeker and Keeper (Harry and Ron, respectively) for Puddlemere United. Hermione wondered how they managed to cram all of that in their schedule, but then again, the Auror department never ran out of workers to dispatch. So sometimes, Hermione found the two out on the field, getting interviewed for a bust, and other times she'd get a message on her phone that they were in some part of the world playing Quidditch.

She envied them, honestly. They always seemed to have all the time in the world.

She lifted the receiver and dialed Harry's number. The answering machine greeted her.

"Hello, Harry, and Ron, if Lavender allowed you to actually stay in your flat tonight. I miss you both, too. And yes, I'd love to join you for lunch tomorrow. See you then."

She hung up, and deciding to forego the changing into a nightgown, promptly lied down and slept.

-

Hermione woke up with the sun peeking in through her window. She guessed it was nearly seven. She could already hear the honking of the cabs outside.

"Good morning, Hermione," she muttered to herself. "What a fine day for another adventure in the Guidance for Underage Wizards office."

Inside, she was frowning. She was willing to bet twenty Galleons that the troublesome boy, Eli Weston, would be back again with yet another sob story. Then she'd recommend Azkaban.

Pushing that tempting thought aside, she pulled herself out of bed and made her way to the closet where she chose a new outfit her mother had sent her from Paris. It was a simple dress, really. White with blue flowers. Nothing much about it. No cleavage enhancing features or slits to show skin. It was a plain dress, and she liked it.

After studying the dress, she walked out of her room and straight to the bathroom. She passed by Malfoy still sprawled on the couch. He was lying on his stomach, one hand and leg dangling down to the floor. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, and continued to the bathroom.

When she opened the door, however, Blaise was already inside. He was washing his face. He had been shaving. He noticed Hermione and glanced at her briefly before he continued to wash.

"Morning," he greeted. He pulled a towel from the rack and wiped his face. Hermione walked over to the sink next to him and returned the greeting, after which she began to brush her teeth.

Hermione studied Blaise's reflection on the mirror as he busied himself with arranging his shaving materials on the small shelf next to the mirror.

He was coming on quite nicely. He had a nice fair complexion, a long nose, full pink lips, charming light brown eyes, and soft black hair. She had a crush on him when she first moved in, but that faded when he began to tackle her as if she were his younger brother.

"Nice shirt," Hermione managed to say after she washed her mouth. She was looking at his white oversized shirt, which had the words "Sssshhh! My Roommate is Hot!" in bright red letters on it, with a sly grin on her face.

Blaise looked down at his shirt and smirked. "Yeah, this? From a new store beside Madam Malkin's. Forgot what it was."

"Well, at least you have excellent taste," she said.

"Oh no, not me. Draco picked this for me when I asked him to buy me a white shirt. He bought himself a shirt from that store, too," Blaise explained as he crossed the room, took off the shirt and tossed it into the hamper.

Hermione nodded. "Right," she muttered, watching as Blaise waved and walked out of the bathroom bare-chested and in his boxers.

After a nice warm bath, Hermione traipsed back to her room, once again passing by Draco who had now turned to lie on his back. He had his face covered by his arm, though.

A few minutes passed and Hermione emerged, ready for work. Blaise was sitting by the table with Draco downing a cup of steaming coffee.

"Someone's up early," she said. She grabbed her purse, which she had unceremoniously tossed on the couch last night and got squished by the drunk Malfoy, and helped herself to the coffee left on the pot.

When he didn't reply, she sat down across him and said, "Nothing for me?" She took a sip of the coffee and smiled.

Malfoy shot her a sulky look and finished his coffee. Blaise merely shrugged his shoulders when Hermione implored to him with her questioning look.

She gazed at the clock behind her and stood up, "I'd better get going now, boys. Duty calls."

"Bye," Blaise said as she made for the door.

"Bye, Blaise. And you, Malfoy. Get some rest, shake it off," she said and closed the door behind her.

-

Miraculously, Eli Weston did not visit Hermione's office that day, which was a relief. There was a thirteen-year old who came in, though. She was using too much magical cosmetics and now they won't come off. Hermione couldn't blame the girl. The mother was clearly at fault, too, judging by the amount she had on.

After a bit of counseling, Hermione gathered her purse and traveled to Muggle London. Harry and Ron were already sitting on a small round table with an overhead umbrella outside Bracelle Avenue, the Muggle café they frequented a few months ago when their schedules weren't so hectic.

Ron waved when he saw Hermione approach. Harry followed suit. She waved back gleefully and quickened her pace.

"Harry, Ron!" she exclaimed as she kissed their cheeks and sat down. "I haven't seen you for a while. Wow, Ron, that cut is so you."

Ron smugly smiled and raked his red hair with his fingers. "Well, I had to get a new look, with the ladies recognizing me everywhere."

Harry chuckled and punched Ron's arm lightly. "Yeah, right. Lavender _made_ you get that cut, more like."

Ron looked indignant, but regained composure and turned his attention to Hermione. "So, how's our princess?"

Hermione blushed. "Ron, I'm not your princess!"

"Yes, you are. You know we love you, Hermione," Harry said, smiling brightly. "Anyway, we invited you—"

A waiter suddenly approached them and began setting large mugs and plates down, stating their orders, "Cappu-_ccino_, cheese _cake_, frappu-_ccino_, chocolate _brownie_, mocha-_ccino_, cho—"

"Thanks, we can take it from here," Harry said. Ron was trying hard not to snigger at the weird waiter who left the table after setting down the last chocolate cake.

"Oh, guys, you remembered my favorite cheese cake and mochaccino!" Hermione gushed as she attacked the cheese cake with her fork eagerly.

"Of course," Harry said. "Anyway, Hermione, we invited you for lunch because we have something to tell you."

Hermione looked up from her plate, swallowed the slice in her mouth, and darted her eyes from Harry to Ron. "What?"

"We'll be gone for two weeks," Ron said before Harry could.

Harry frowned a bit but continued for Ron, "Yeah. We have a Quidditch seminar in Italy, and then we'll be touring most of the country."

Hermione fed herself another slice and nodded.

"Is that okay with you?" Ron asked after sipping nearly half of his cappuccino.

Hermione nodded again, sipped her drink, and said, grinning, "Of course. Two weeks, right? I can live with that. I'll just have to eat lunch with Shirley in the moldy confines of the Ministry cafeteria, but that's okay."

Harry groaned apologetically. "We're really sorry you have to put up with her, Hermione. But you can come here, you know. You can eat here without us. Bracelle knows us already."

Ron nodded in agreement.

Hermione smiled at them and said, "Really, Harry, Ron, I'm fine with that. Come on, we're grownups. You have jobs to do, and so do I. There will always come the time when we're going to have to miss lunch with each other for two weeks straight."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked.

"Absolutely," she replied.

"Well, if ever you'll feel lonely, you can come up to our office and eat with Blaise. He gets food delivered to his cubicle everyday," Harry suggested. He was starting to dig in to his chocolate cake.

Hermione nodded. "Okay, but I hear Malfoy's there most of the time."

"He's quite okay," Ron said.

"Yeah, he is. Except last night," she quipped and took another sip.

Harry and Ron nearly dropped their forks. "What?" Harry asked, sputtering.

Hermione looked at them innocently, and soon got the miscommunication. "No, no, that's not what I meant! He was drunk and woozy last night after a celebratory drink with Blaise in the flat. They had twelve firewhiskies. Or was it thirteen? Anyway, he was elated Pansy broke up with him. Then he passed out on the couch."

"Wait, Malfoy got drunk in your flat? What about Blaise?" Ron asked interestedly.

"Blaise can hold his alcohol," Hermione answered, finishing her cake before continuing. "Malfoy had it bad. He was impossible to talk to. And he was truly unfit for travel so I made him stay over for the night."

"And Pansy broke up with him?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Finally?"

"Finally."

"I guess that explains it," Ron said. "He asked us and Blaise to go to this club to celebrate. But Harry and I had a staff meeting with the team so we declined. Mind you, Hermione, he was so happy. He was jumping around."

Hermione imagined Draco skipping around the Auror office, all giddy and joyful to have shaken off Pansy Parkinson at last. She grinned and continued to finish her cake and drink.

-

Lunch passed by pretty quickly, and after a few short discussions about Quidditch, Aurors, and troubled teenagers, Hermione was sitting back in her office, waiting for the next juvenile delinquent.

For an hour or two, there was no knock on her door. Well, there was one, but it was just Shirley who came in to check if Eli Weston's name was spelled E-L-I or E-L-I-E.

By three-thirty, Hermione got a memo from Blaise. She held the fluttering purple memo tight as she read:

_Hermione,_

_Dinner tonight at Pearsons?_

_BZ_

She smiled and scribbled a reply at the bottom: _Sure. See you tonight._ Then she had off back to its sender.

-

By five o'clock, Hermione tidied up her office and gathered her things, prepared to leave. Then she bid goodbye to Shirley who was writing a report about Eli (still not done).

When she arrived at Pearsons, a posh restaurant in Diagon Alley, Blaise was nowhere in sight yet. However, a familiar figure approached her.

Draco nodded at her and said, "Come on, we have a table for three by the window. Blaise will be a bit late, a few minutes, he said."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked back to the table he had come from. Hermione walked behind him. He wasn't completely rude though, as he pulled up a chair for her across him and waited until she sat.

"Why are you here?" she asked good-naturedly.

However, he thought she meant he was unwelcome and grimaced a bit. "Blaise invited me, if you must know."

Hermione wanted to apologize for her brash question but figured it was useless. He was already enjoying a glass of wine. The bottle was sitting in a bucket of ice beside him.

_Great, he's going to get himself drunk_, she thought inwardly. _I won't carry him, if that's what he's thinking._

"Would you like some wine, too?" he asked after an uncomfortable silence. She shook her head but he poured some for her anyway. "You need some, Granger. Come on, just this once. I haven't seen you loosen up and drink."

He inched her glass closer to her in invitation.

She looked at it hesitantly. He read what she was thinking and said, "Don't worry, Granger. You're not going to get drunk with _that_. It's just a glass-full."

Studying the patronizing look on his face, Hermione decided to try it. Then that was it. Just one glass. She raised it to her lips and took a sip. Her face lit up. It was actually sweet and bubbly.

She continued to sip more until her glass was empty. Draco was smiling at her, an eyebrow cocked as he poured more in her glass. "We are going to have a great time, Granger."

-

…to be continued

AN: The waiter sequence (where he states the order in a weird manner) I got from Sophie Kinsella's _Can You Keep a Secret?_ where a waiter interrupts a heart-to-heart talk between Emma and her parents with his cappu-_ccino_ routine. Really great book!


	3. Burglarized

Title: The Flatmate

Author: silveris

Rating: R

Warnings: Not HBP-compatible

Genre(s): Post-Hogwarts, slight humor

Summary: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.

AN: I'm sticking with the Italian!Blaise and completely ignoring the black Londoner JKR mentioned in HBP. As I said, this isn't entirely HBP-compatible.

o

Chapter Three -- Burglarized

Draco graciously tipped the bottle to pour Hermione her third glass. She wasn't drunk…yet, he noticed. But she awfully chatty.

"Why did Pansy break up with you again?" she asked.

"Moved on with Goyle," he replied shortly. He wasn't negatively affected with the break-up at all; he just found ignoring the topics that included Pansy a worthwhile activity. The less he had to do with her, the better. But Hermione wasn't going to just leave it at that.

She took a sip from her glass and continued the interview. "You're not good enough for her anymore, then?"

Draco looked taken back.

"I mean, she replaced you with Goyle. Goyle, of all people! That Parkinson must be one daft twat!" Hermione said a bit too loudly, causing the couple nearby to shoot them dirty looks. She pulled an apologetic look, but stuck out her tongue at them when they turned away.

Draco sniggered at her childish attitude. She was getting drunk after all.

"I think you've had enough wine, Granger," he started to say as he reached for her glass. But she held it tightly and gave him a sour look for even attempting to stop her. "Come on, woman, Blaise isn't even here yet!"

"I'm not drunk, if that's what you're thinking," she said huffily. "Is Blaise even coming?" she glanced at the brass wall clock behind him. "It's been half an hour already, Malfoy. I'm starving!"

"Then order something," he said as-a-matter-of-factly. "No one's stopping you."

Hermione pouted. Draco saw this as an opportunity to steal her glass and before she could reach out, he downed its contents in one gulp. Her mouth hung open with his audacity.

He simply grinned in return. Finding nothing to say, she settled back on her seat to stare out the window.

"You do realize you just drank off my glass, Malfoy?" she said after a while. There was nothing interesting outside.

"So I did," he replied.

"Oh."

There was that pregnant silence again.

"Surely, Granger, you've put the past behind us. I don't address you as 'Mudblood' anymore, do I? And clearly, your best friends don't seem to have a problem with me," he said.

She just nodded and started to fiddle with her fork. "I'm hungry."

Before Draco could say something, Blaise arrived. He was panting a bit, but smiling, as he pulled the remaining chair and sat down.

"Terribly sorry for my lateness. Have you two ordered something already?" Blaise asked, looking back and forth between Draco and Hermione.

Hermione shook her head and smiled.

"Mind explaining yourself?" Draco said. He was sneering at Blaise but the irritation was evident in his eyes. He was as hungry as Hermione but didn't show it.

Blaise made a show of twiddling with his fingers, lips pursed with an air of anticipation. He clearly had news and had been waiting for finally reveal it.

Hermione and Draco looked at him curiously. He met their eyes in one swoop and announced, "I've been made manager of Puddlemere United!"

Draco opened his mouth in surprise, then clapped Blaise's shoulder and shook his hand jovially. "Congratulations, mate! After two years, you finally got that job!"

"Thanks, thanks, Draco. I know; isn't it great?" Blaise replied happily. His eyes were practically twinkling with delight.

Hermione, meanwhile, didn't quite get it. Of course, even though she was best friends with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, both famous Quidditch players, their passion for Quidditch never rubbed off on her. All she knew was that Quidditch was a brutal sport played on thin broomsticks while the players desperately try to dodge killer balls, shoot another through hoops, and catch a tiny golden ball.

Blaise then turned to face her and saw her puzzled expression. "Hermione, are you happy for me?"

She snapped back to reality and nodded hurriedly. "Yes, yes, of course I am, Blaise."

Draco snorted. She threw him a warning look, which he ignored by saying, "Blaise, as if you don't know. Granger's got no idea what Quidditch is."

She was about to shoot back with a witty remark but then an earlier conversation played back in her mind.

_We have a Quidditch seminar in Italy, and then we'll be touring most of the country._

Right! Puddlemere United was going to Italy.

"So, you're going to be gone for two weeks?" she asked. There was the slightest bit of worry in her voice, but neither man noticed.

"Yes, we're going to Italy and then on a tour. How'd you know?"

"Harry and Ron."

Draco and Blaise nodded in unison.

"Of course. How could I forget? They were in the meeting, too. I was a bit late because of that, the briefing," he told her. He saw her pensive look and asked, "Anything wrong?"

She met his eyes briefly and shook her head slightly. "No. But, you know, I'm going to be all alone in the flat for two weeks."

Blaise looked contemplative, then glanced at Draco before turning back to her. "Draco can pay you a visit once in a while, check up on you…won't you, Draco?"

Draco was going to protest but Blaise elbowed his shoulders. Hermione didn't notice though, because she was back to playing with the fork.

"Sure," Draco wheezed. He icily glared at Blaise, who sheepishly smiled.

Hermione lifted her gaze to Draco questioningly. She wasn't sure he was _that_ nice yet.

"But I'll have you know that I'm leaving for Scotland the day after tomorrow for three days. Short vacation if you ask me, but good enough," he continued.

Hermione's face fell. Slightly.

"Vacation? What for?" Blaise asked curiously.

Draco looked smug as he replied, "Well, I only raided the largest warehouse manufacturing fake joke shop items yesterday. It's not in the news yet, though. Bosses wanted to keep it hush-hush. Smooth things over, he said. Anyway, they gave me a sleazy week to rest. But I asked for three days; figured I'd use the remaining four later."

"Well, you're on fire! First the raid, then the Pansy break-up," Blaise said as he shook Draco's hand again. The latter pretended to be abashed, but the stupid grin on his face betrayed him. Hermione, once again, rolled her eyes.

Unluckily, Draco noticed this and narrowed his eyes as he said, "What success story have you got for us then, Granger?"

She glared at him for asking the question. He knew the Guidance for Underage Wizards office was boring; he had been one of the 'victims' of her occasional rambles whenever she got bored at the flat. One night, when Blaise went out to buy butterbeer for a movie marathon the three of them were having, she turned on Draco and began telling him the misadventures she had in that office that day. He seemed interested anyway.

Blaise sensed the tension and decided to motion for a waiter. The latter quickly dashed to their table and handed each of them their menus. Despite having two menus blocking Hermione and Draco's view, Draco knew she was still staring at the same space, seemingly determined to bore a hole right through the menus and into him.

OOO

Dinner went on for more than hour. Hermione was awfully silent. Blaise figured she was still thinking about her office escapades, but Draco knew she was just eating as much as she could. She did say she was hungry over and over before Blaise arrived.

During dessert, they resumed their conversation. Blaise kicked Draco's foot when the former sensed Draco was about to bring up office talk again. So Blaise veered the conversation towards a more wholesome matter…or so he thought.

"Are you still going out with Cormac, Hermione?"

Hermione nearly choked on her sundae. She took a moment to compose herself before she said, "Cormac and I broke up a month ago."

"And how long did that relationship last?" Draco asked interestedly.

Blaise kicked Draco again, but it was too late. The question hung in the air. Hermione looked like she was going to fling the ice cream on her spoon towards Draco but she ate it before replying, "Six days."

Draco coughed to hide a snort. Blaise looked at Hermione incredulously.

"Six days?" Blaise repeated.

"Like sixth year?" Draco added.

Hermione raised her eyebrow at him. So did Blaise.

He shrugged his shoulder innocently. "What? You did go out with him during sixth year, right? But it was a dud."

"Oh my god, you're a girl," Blaise swore, a wide grin breaking all over his face.

"What?" Draco asked heatedly.

"You knew that? And you remembered? It's been four years, Draco," Blaise continued. He was shaking with mirth as he slurped the last of his iced tea.

Hermione was chuckling, too.

Draco crossed his arms on his chest and angrily leaned back on his chair. "Well at least I didn't have that kind of joke. Six days, really."

Hermione sourly glared at him. Before anything more could be said, Blaise feigned looking at the clock and announced that it was time for them to head home.

To Hermione's dismay, Draco decided to follow them to their flat for a bit of a chat with Blaise. It was barely nine.

Thankfully, the flat was just a few blocks away so they walked. Blaise launched into a discussion about his being manager of Puddlemere United, Draco throwing comments about gameplay and nice Italian hotspots once in a while. Blaise would ask Hermione something but it was clear that she just wasn't interested in Quidditch. Draco wasn't making an effort to bring her into the conversation either, so she remained silent all the way.

Finally, they reached the homely blue door of the flat. Hermione was about to insert the key into the keyhole when Draco suddenly pulled her back towards him by the arms. She roughly hit his chest with her back.

"Malfoy, you prick—"

"Something's off," Blaise said, sensing the same feeling Draco was. He reached for the knob and turned. The door pushed open yet Hermione hadn't used the key yet.

"Stay here," Blaise told Hermione as he stepped in. She struggled from Draco's grasp but he was holding her too tightly.

The lights went on and Blaise stepped back out. "Someone's been in there."

"What?" Hermione exclaimed. Draco loosened his grip so she was able to dodge past Blaise and into the flat.

Someone had definitely been in there. The furniture were misplaced, a vase lay broken by the couch, the television was gone, and so was the radio…

Quickly, she ran into her room before Blaise and Draco could stop her. She threw the door open and headed straight for the vanity. She pulled the top drawer out while the voice in her head kept saying _'please let it be there, please'_.

But she found the drawer was empty. And without warning, tears began to well up and fall freely down her cheeks.

-

…to be continued

AN: My muses are definitely having a feast. I can't stop writing! I hope they don't pack up, though. I'd love to get the next four chapters in before school starts. Gack!

Okay, so it is a bit HBP-dependent. (The Cormac issue.) But it ends there. (And I don't know if Hermione did date him or how long it lasted. I just needed a name and a bit of history. And Ron was out of the question.)

Thanks to everyone who left their thoughts for the previous two chapters!


	4. Comfort at Midnight

**Title**: The Flatmate

**Author**: silveris

**Rating**: R

**Warnings**: Not HBP-compatible

**Genre(s):** Post-Hogwarts, slight humor

**Summary**: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.

AN: I'm sticking with the Italian!Blaise and completely ignoring the black Londoner JKR mentioned in HBP. As I said, this isn't entirely HBP-compatible.

OOO

**Chapter Four – Comfort at Midnight**

When Blaise and Draco entered Hermione's room, they hesitated to approach her. She was sitting on the bed, her back to them, but the way her shoulders were shaking, they could tell she was crying.

Both men looked at each other as if to ask who would go over and comfort her. Blaise raised his eyebrows and Draco shrugged.

Finally, they both sat down on each side of her, Draco softly running his palm across her back while Blaise held her hand.

"It's gone," she managed to say between sobs. She was shaking uncontrollably when she turned her head towards the empty drawer she set down on the vanity. Draco and Blaise followed her gaze.

Blaise understood and squeezed her hand tighter. He leaned a bit forward to look in her eyes and whispered, "Ssshhh, Hermione. I'll call the police, okay? They'll be here in a few minutes." He turned his attention to Draco who nodded.

Blaise nodded in return and released Hermione's hand before he stepped out into the living room to make the phone call.

Now it was just Draco and Hermione in the room.

Her sobs were lessening and she starting to calm down. Absent-mindedly, Draco's hand moved to her hair where he began stroking it while shushing her. His other hand had replaced where Blaise's had been earlier.

"It's gone," she repeated. "It's gone. They took it."

Draco sensed another wave of tears so he edged a bit closer to her so their hips touched. The hand on her hair moved to her shoulder to pull her towards his chest instinctively. She complied, seemingly tired to think who was comforting her. She rested her head on the hollow between his neck and shoulder and promptly started to cry silently.

Draco wanted to ask her what was taken but he was afraid she'd cry again. So he let it pass.

They spent a few minutes like that. Hermione was resting against Draco while he had his arms around her. The sound in the room was her soft sobs. He couldn't bring himself to say any comforting words because he never had experience with crying women before.

Pansy never cried, except when she broke the heel of her favorite red stilettos. But that didn't count. All Draco had to do was buy her a new pair. He didn't have to hug her or tell her everything was going to be okay. He didn't have to comfort her.

Pansy wasn't a woman; she was a girl who dressed like a woman but wasn't really in touch with her feelings.

But Hermione was different. She was allowing him to comfort her. She didn't protest or question his sincerity. And he didn't mind either.

Blaise chose that moment to reenter. The cordless phone was still in his hand but it was off. He seated himself on a stool across them.

"The police will be here soon. They're going to have to ask questions. Hermione, do you want to stay until they get here?" Blaise asked softly.

Hermione shook her head slightly.

Blaise gave Draco a questioning look. The latter responded by saying, "I'll take her to the manor. You two can stay there for now."

Blaise smiled gratefully. Then he turned to Hermione who was blankly staring at the floor. "Will you be okay, Hermione?"

She nodded slowly.

"I'll see you later, alright?"

Nod.

"Okay. Get some rest," he said before taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. He nodded at Draco and mouthed a 'thank you'.

Draco smiled vaguely, leant down and whispered to Hermione's ear, "Hold tight."

With a pop, Draco and Hermione Disapparated.

OOO

Draco and Hermione Apparated on the bed in a guest room of the Malfoy Manor. He released his hold on her and allowed her to sit up properly. She wiped the tears from her face with her hand and took a few moments to gather herself.

He still sat silently beside her, watching as she breathed in and breathed out.

Suddenly, she reached out and took his hand, locking eyes with him as she said, "Thank you."

He didn't quite know how to react so he nodded and replied, "No problem. Do you need anything? Water?"

She shook her head. He looked around the room, buying for time.

Sensing the slight tension, she let go of him and inched away a bit.

He cleared his throat and stood up, walking towards the door. "This will be your room. If you need anything, the House Elves are ready," he paused to regard the slight strain in her face when he mentioned House Elves. "Or you can ask them to call me instead."

She nodded. He looked like he had something to say but shoved it aside for the moment.

"Right. Blaise will be here soon. Sleep it off. Everything will be alright. Good night," he said, opened the door and stepped out.

Hermione looked around the room. It was magnificent. She had been to the Malfoy Manor twice before (Draco's previous two birthdays) but she never got to marvel at the interior much.

The guest bedroom wasn't just a bedroom. It was practically a suite. A suite for a lady. She noticed the pinkish tinge on the tiles and the walls. The paintings depicted famous witches and the ornaments were clearly centered on women—mermaids (the beautiful ones, not the merepeople kind), and little girls with large watery eyes.

Exploring the room took her mind off the burglary for a moment, until she noticed the vanity across the bed. It looked like hers, except the one in the room was more shiny and clutter-free.

Then she remembered the empty drawer and she felt nauseous. She had the feeling of having her stomach in her throat, scared of what to do since losing the contents of that drawer.

She briskly headed for the bathroom to splash water on her face.

OOO

It was nearly midnight when Blaise knocked on her door. She was asleep but she left the door open. He silently crept in and saw her snuggly tucked in under the sheets.

Quietly, he placed a luggage beside her bed and with a whispered good night, slithered back out.

OOO

Midnight.

Hermione woke up and looked around her. Her heart dropped a bit when she realized she was still in the manor. She was still wearing the dress her mother gave her. She thought it was all a dream and she would wake up in her room in the flat.

_It's still gone_, she thought. _And for the second night in a row, I slept in work clothes._

Tiredly, she pushed the sheets off and clambered off the bed. She then noticed the luggage Blaise had left beside her bed earlier. She recognized it to be her own. She switched on the bedside lamp, pulled the luggage down and opened it.

"At least he brought my nightgown," she muttered when she pulled out the light blue garment. "But he had to pick the shortest one."

She looked at the nightgown in disgust. It had been a gift from Lavender. Apparently, Parvati had suggested it when the latter heard Hermione was sharing a flat with Blaise. Parvati thought Blaise was hot and Hermione could do with a "little help".

She chuckled at the thought as she changed into the nightgown.

OOO

The kitchen wasn't hard to find. It was on the first floor and had double swinging doors. She used her wand to light the way. She didn't want any glaring lights; her eyes were too heavy still.

She groped a bit around the dark and after a few minutes (nearly half an hour), she had a cup of tea in her hands as she sat by the table, darkness surrounding her.

She was busy embracing the warmth and sweetness of the tea that she failed to notice a figure walk into the kitchen. The lights were switched on and she only had time to catch a streak of blonde hair before she covered her eyes and screamed, "Ouch! Malfoy, switch it off!"

Draco complied and muttered an apology. He walked over to her hunched figure. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" he asked, sitting beside her.

She raised her cup to him. He leaned towards it to smell and nodded in understanding.

"You?" she asked.

"Coffee. But tea will do."

"There's still more in the kettle," she told him.

"Why didn't you get a House Elf?"

"They could be sleeping after a hard day's toiling in this enormous mansion. Why didn't _you_?"

"They could be sleeping," he replied. In the dark, she could make out the trace of a grin on his face.

A few minutes later they each had a cup-full of tea. They were silently sipping before Hermione asked, "What did Blaise say?"

Draco was speechless for a few seconds before he answered, "He thinks you should stay here for the meantime. Let the bad air out of the flat before you move back in."

"I can't bother you—"

"You're not," he said a bit too quickly. Then he continued slowly, "I mean, this place is huge. Who could you disturb?"

Then there was that annoying silence again.

Hermione didn't notice Draco sweeping his eyes over her. It was dark, but not that dark. He could make out the outline of her short nightgown. It was held up on her shoulders by a thin strap. The neckline was so low that it showed a bit of cleavage. He had to pretend to cough so he could bend a bit farther from her; he managed to see that the nightgown ended on the middle of her leg.

He swallowed and forced himself to swallow hot tea when he noticed that her leg seemed to shine in its paleness.

"They took the ring my father gave me," she whispered suddenly.

He didn't say anything as he registered what she told him.

She continued, "It was his ring. But he knew I wanted it ever since I saw it. I wanted it even though I knew it would never fit my fingers. I was seven."

She sipped her tea. "When I turned eighteen, he took that shiny silver band off his finger, slipped a chain through it and gave it to me as a gift."

Draco listened intently as he continued to drink his tea.

"Then he told me, 'Hermione, until you meet the man you'll spend the rest of your life with, this ring will act as your engagement ring, your guardian. And if ever, quite impossibly, you won't meet him, know that daddy will always be near your heart.'"

Hermione's voice shook and wavered. Draco impulsively inched closer to her in case she started crying again.

"He died two months later in a car accident," she finished, and without warning, started to cry.

Draco felt something hit him inside. He felt like crying along with her, too. But he kept his emotions in check and instead pulled her to him once again to make her tears stop. But this time, instead of being passive, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his chest.

Overcome with surprise and loneliness, he embraced her back.

OOO

That morning, Hermione woke up to find breakfast in bed and a House Elf eagerly standing beside her bed.

"Good morning, miss," it greeted, bowing. "Would you be liking anything else, miss?"

Hermione looked at the tray in front of her and the two pieces of folded parchment beside her orange juice.

"No, thank you. I'll be fine," she said, smiling at the House Elf.

"Call Curly when you need anything, miss," it said before disappearing with a snap of its fingers.

Hermione turned back to her breakfast and unfolded the first parchment.

_Hermione,_

_Hope you're fine now. I'm leaving early for Italy. I wanted to talk to you this morning but you were sleeping like an angel._

_I'll call you tonight, if time permits._

_Everything's okay, but I don't want you going in the flat again today. It's not cleaned up yet._

_See you in two weeks._

_Take care._

_BZ_

She smiled at the note and placed it on the bedside table. She turned to the other parchment.

_Good morning. Enjoy your breakfast._

_M_

M for Malfoy, she thought. She placed the note beside Blaise's, too.

OOO

…to be continued

AN: Oooh! Draco and Blaise at her feet! Who got more action with our lovely heroine? Is this even a DHr fic? Should I change this to a BZHG instead? I'm so evil.

A million hugs and kisses to everyone who reviewed!


	5. Scotland Blues

**Title**: The Flatmate

**Author**: silveris

**Rating**: R

**Warnings**: Not HBP-compatible

**Genre(s):** Post-Hogwarts, slight humor

**Summary**: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.

AN: I'm sticking with the Italian!Blaise and completely ignoring the black Londoner JKR mentioned in HBP. As I said, this isn't entirely HBP-compatible.

OOO

**Chapter Five – Scotland Blues**

Despite the protests of Curly the House Elf against Hermione going to work (Draco and Blaise had ordered it to keep her in the house), she bathed, got dressed, and left. She didn't care that it was nearly lunch when she left the manor.

What kind of guidance counselor was she if she didn't show up when Eli Weston visited her office?

Shirley greeted her in the same shrill voice before scrambling to her own office to write reports.

When Hermione entered her small office, she found Hedwig perched on the open window, a rolled up parchment attached to its leg. It hooted and flew over to her desk.

"Hello, Hedwig," she greeted, patting it lightly on the head before taking the parchment.

It was from Harry.

_Hermione,_

_Why didn't you contact me and Ron last night? We had to hear it from Draco this morning. Ron didn't really believe him until Blaise confirmed it._

_We could've been there to help._

_Anyway, instead of leaving for Italy this morning, we decided to not leave at all until we find you a new flat. The two reserves (I'm not sure how to write their names down…) will do fine. Blaise has asked the junior manager to take over for him, too._

_We'll see you soon._

_Love from Harry (and Ron)_

"Oh, no you don't," Hermione muttered as she reread the letter. They were seriously putting off their Italy trip just because of her.

She grabbed a quill from her desk and turned the parchment around so she could scribble a reply. She didn't get to do that, though, because the door to her office opened and Draco stepped in.

"Why did you have to tell them?" she immediately asked, in spite of being surprised with his unexpected entrance.

"Curly told me you left. You're supposed to be resting," he said, not really answering her question.

"I did not get hurt. No one did. I don't have to rest," she said angrily. She was getting tired of them treating her like a dependent baby.

He regarded her hurt expression for a moment, close his eyes, and when he opened them, looked back right at her. "Of course, you're not. I'm sorry. But I thought Harry and Weasley had the right to know what happened especially since you were involved. They were bound to know anyway."

Hermione relaxed a bit. She nearly bent the quill with her grip so she set it down on top of the parchment. She motioned for him to take a seat in front of her desk but he declined with a wave of his hand.

"You're coming with me. They're expecting us for lunch," he informed her.

"They?"

"Blaise, Harry, and Weasley. They knew you wouldn't stay put in the manor. So, come on," he beckoned, nodding towards the door.

Hermione sighed. "But I just got here. I haven't even warmed up the seat yet," she mumbled.

"Pardon?"

She shook her head. With another sigh, she smiled at Hedwig, who then hooted and flew out the window. She folded up the parchment and placed it in her purse, and headed for the door with him at her wake.

OOO

Harry, Ron, and Blaise were already seated around a bigger round table outside Bracelle Avenue. Plates of cakes and steaming mugs of coffee were waiting for them.

Draco pulled a chair between Harry and Ron for Hermione again and allowed her to sit first before he sat himself across her.

"Hermione, are you okay now?" Ron asked worriedly. He peered at her face curiously as if looking for a nonexistent scratch or bruise.

"Ron, Harry, don't be ridiculous. I was with Blaise and Malfoy the whole night." She rounded on Blaise and added, "And you too, Blaise. Why did you have to cancel your trip?"

Blaise looked back innocently. "We can't leave you alone, Hermione. What if you went back to the flat? What if the burglar went back while you were there?"

Hermione huffed. "I can take care of myself. I have a wand, you know."

"What if it had a weapon, too? A gun?" Harry supplied.

"Or what if it wasn't alone?" Ron added.

Hermione banged her open palm on the table, which caused all four blokes to jump slightly on their seats.

"I am not a child! Stop treating me like one. Look, I said I am capable of caring for myself," she exclaimed. Thankfully, they were the only customers around.

The four didn't have anything to say for a while. Then Ron, tired of biting his lip, spoke up, "Where are you staying, then?"

"My place," Draco answered for her.

Ron didn't look too happy. "But you're going to Scotland tomorrow."

"I don't think Hermione should be alone, especially right now. And honestly, Draco, your manor is a bit too creepy. Too roomy," Harry added.

Hermione looked around the table.

Blaise then piped up, "What if you come with us to Italy? You can shop around at day. The two reserves can escort you—"

"No, I'm not going to disturb you," she interjected.

Ron spoke again, "Well, you can't go back to the flat and you can't stay in the creepy manor—"

"Hey, watch what you're calling creepy!" Draco said through gritted teeth.

"Ron, stop it. Sorry, Malfoy. Hermione, I have to agree, though," Harry said.

There was a silent among them again. Each was thinking about what to do. The only sound was the slurping of a nearly empty cappuccino mug, courtesy of Ron.

"Say, what if," Draco broke the silence, "she goes with me to Scotland?"

"That's a great idea," Blaise said.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

"What would she do in Scotland? There's nothing remotely interesting there that she hasn't seen before," Ron said.

"Did I mention I wasn't aiming for Muggle Scotland? She'll love it there," Draco replied.

"I've been there. It's quite wonderful, really," Blaise added.

"And who said she would agree?" Hermione suddenly cut in. She wasn't too happy being in a conversation that suddenly ignored her presence.

Draco grinned at her. "Oh, Granger, you know you want to see the magical side of Scotland."

Blaise, Harry, and surprisingly, Ron, nodded in agreement. Hermione glared at Malfoy who wiggled an eyebrow suggestively at her.

"But I have work to do!"

"I'll inform Shirley. I'm sure the old girl can manage," Blaise said as he fished a spare piece of paper and a pen out of his jacket pocket. He began to scribble something down.

"So, Granger. Pack up tonight and we leave first thing tomorrow," Draco said, grinning even broadly as he started to eat his banana cake.

Hermione could do nothing but sit there and watch as the other four ate their cakes.

OOO

…to be continued

AN: Who nearly had a heart attack when I mentioned changing this to a BHr? You guys crack me up! I'm going to keep this DHr, don't worry. avoids pitchforks and tomatoes

Short chapter, I know. Sorry. But I promise the next one will be longer (and better).

And whatever happened to Crookshanks? That question will be answered next time.

A billion tight hugs and sloppy wet kisses to everyone who read and reviewed! You make me want to keep on writing+wink wink+


	6. Dirty Thoughts

**Title**: The Flatmate

**Author**: silveris

**Rating**: R

**Warnings**: Not HBP-compatible

**Genre(s):** Post-Hogwarts, slight humor

**Summary**: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.

OOO

**Chapter Six – Dirty Thoughts**

"I'll see you in two weeks, alright?" Blaise said as he stood by Hermione's room in the manor the next morning. His bags were lined up behind him, Draco standing nearby.

"Write often. Tell me the wonderful sights in Italy," she said. She leaned in to kiss his cheek then hugged him.

Draco rolled his eyes.

Finally, Blaise and Hermione broke apart.

"If you don't, I'll pull Crookshanks from cat heaven and have him scratch you while you're sleeping," she said, grinning.

"I'll write, promise," Blaise said, nodding.

OOO

Blaise and Draco stood at the Portkey station, waiting for Harry and Ron to arrive. Blaise had called the junior manager to inform the rest of Puddlemere United that he and the other two players were going to join them after all. They would catch up via Portkey, which Blaise had to pay a hefty amount for just to take an unbooked trip.

As Blaise adjusted the straps of his duffel bag, Draco began to pace around the station lobby. The attendant, a young witch with a toothy smile and a penchant for keeping her eyes on Draco's backside (as if he didn't notice since they arrived), was still curiously trailing his every move. She shifted every now and then on her stool behind the counter, flipping her long brown hair, determined to bring Draco's attention to her. But he wasn't interested.

Blaise set his bag down next to his luggage, sat down on the white tiles, and observed Draco's pacing. "Something bothering you?" he asked.

Draco stopped and sighed. Then he walked over to Blaise and sat down, too.

"Well, I've been meaning to ask, but don't get me wrong. Just asking, nothing attached to it," he started.

"Just ask," Blaise said, intrigued.

Draco rubbed his hands together and said after clearing his throat, "Is there something…between you and Granger?"

Blaise looked puzzled. Then a big grin appeared on his face, crinkling his Italian features. He threw Draco a devilish look.

"What? I was just asking. I didn't mean anything by it," Draco said defensively.

Blaise laughed. "I didn't even say anything. You might have just given yourself away."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "Come off it, mate."

"Well, no, there's nothing going on between me and Hermione. By all means, pursue her if you must," Blaise said. "Don't think I didn't notice the extra moves you pulled on her."

A slight red tinge colored Draco's cheeks. "What moves?"

Blaise leaned back against his luggage and looked at the ceiling, sighing happily. "Oh, I don't know. When you two were in her room the other night—"

"I was comforting her!"

"You could've just held her hand."

"I was!"

"You were hugging her. On her bed."

"You would've done the same! Harry and Weasley would've done the same."

"But I wouldn't have held her so tight."

"What?"

Blaise took a moment to catch his breath from all the laughing. The scandalized look on Draco's face was a one-in-a-million. The latter looked utterly childish.

"But you know, I did fancy her," Blaise said. Draco's feature began to soften and was replaced with one of inquisitiveness.

Blaise kept his gaze on the ceiling instead. He continued, "Back when she first moved in. Fresh out of Hogwarts, just got her job in the Ministry. Really spunky…and pretty, remember?"

He paused to nudge Draco's arm with his elbow. The two remembered the time Draco said she looked pretty. But it was just in passing. Blaise didn't forget it because it was the first time Draco said something positively nice about her.

"Then she had to go wear her silly nightgown," Blaise said.

"The short skimpy one?" Draco suddenly asked. He recalled the night in the kitchen.

Blaise sat up and faced Draco. He looked at him curiously, a slight grin on his lips, "I didn't know she had one like that."

"Oh, she does. Really girly-girl, that one. Thin satin, didn't reach her knees," Draco supplied, grinning, too.

"Really? How'd you know? She never wore that in the flat."

"The other night, I went down to the kitchen for coffee but she was there already, drinking tea in the dark. I know, weird. And she was wearing that nightie."

"Wicked."

Both of them sat in silence for a while. Anyone who were listening to their conversation could immediately infer the kind of thoughts running through their heads.

Draco snapped out of it and smacked Blaise's arm. "Hey, you were talking about her silly nightgown!"

Blaise chuckled. "Oh, yeah. But you had to go mess it up with your perv sightings. Merlin knows what happened next."

Draco glared evilly so Blaise returned to his track. "Anyway, I was cooking dinner and she just came out of her room in this fluffy…yellow…one-piece…_thing_. It had goofy light green swirls and frog faces."

A vision of Hermione prancing around in a yellow _thing_ with green blots invaded their thoughts and they began to laugh hysterically. The attendant looked at the two wizards intriguingly.

"Wait, wait!" Blaise continued, wiping the small tears under his eyes, his face beet red. "The best part was, she asked to cook!"

A fresh wave of laughter broke out.

"Granger? Cook? The last time she did that, she nearly burned Harry and Weasley's flat down," Draco said, clutching his stomach.

"Exactly, which was the real reason they had her move out. It wasn't because of Brown going jealous or any of that crap."

A clearing of throat interrupted their laugh fest. Harry and Ron had arrived and were looking at the two men who had been so engrossed with something incredibly funny that the only thing missing was their rolling on the floor.

"Ah, Harry and Ron, good," Blaise said, standing up and turning serious.

After a few weird glances around and small talk ("Don't lose her in Scotland" from Ron to Draco, "Take care of Hermione" from Harry to Draco, and "Shut up, Weasley," from Draco to Ron), Blaise, Harry, and Ron approached the attendant for their Portkey.

Before they could leave, Draco pulled Blaise aside and whispered with a smirk, "We'll continue this discussion when you get back."

Blaise nodded and patted Draco's back.

OOO

Eli Weston was a handful.

Hermione had to carefully explain that a wand wasn't supposed to be used to pick earwax out of one's younger brother. She also wondered whatever happened to young Toby Weston, who reportedly spewed pink bees out of his left ear.

She rested her head on the polished oak of her desk and sighed.

"I knew you would still be here." It was Draco's voice.

Hermione looked up and saw him standing in front of her desk. He was smirking down at her amusedly.

"I'm tired," she told him as she rested her chin on her hands.

"You can do all the sleeping you want in Scotland. For now, let's go home, have dinner, and pack your stuff because we're taking the early morning train," he said, moving around the desk to pull her up by the shoulders.

"Malfoy," she started to say, but he had already grabbed her purse and was dragging her towards the door.

Shirley was outside, carrying a large stack of papers. She looked at Draco and Hermione curiously. He was practically dragging her along, and she wasn't doing anything about it. When Hermione noticed the Shirley, she straightened up.

"Mister Zabini told me you were going on a honeymoon with your husband," Shirley said to Hermione, throwing a nervous glance at Draco.

Hermione looked like she was hit in the head with a mallet. But before she could tell Shirley that Draco was in no way related to her, Draco furtively squeezed her arm and said, "Yes, we are. I trust you can run this office without Hermione for three days?"

He smiled sweetly. Shirley seemed to blush as she slowly nodded. _The old Malfoy charm_, Hermione thought savagely.

"Brilliant! See you around, Shirley," Draco said before he gently released Hermione's arm so he could take hold of her hand instead.

OOO

Once they were on the street, Hermione wiggled her hands free from Draco's and turned around in front of him so she was blocking his way.

"What is the deal with telling Shirley that?"

"That what?" he asked innocently.

"That we were going on a honeymoon?"

"Don't blame me; Blaise wrote the letter," he said.

"But I'm not going on a honeymoon with you. We're not even married. _I'm_ not married," Hermione exclaimed.

Draco didn't seem bothered. "Neither am I. But that got you three days, didn't it? And you're making a big deal out of this, Granger. Honestly!"

"You could've just told her I went to visit a sick relative."

"Once again, Blaise's fault."

Hermione scoffed. "Shirley will be thinking we're actually a couple. In three days she'll be thinking we're doing honeymoon-related stuff."

Draco seemed amused; Hermione was appalled.

"Oh, crap! Now you've done it! Dirty thoughts in my head!" Hermione cried, tapping her forehead with her palm vigorously. "Get out, get out!"

Draco realized he was wearing her purse on his shoulders and that she was acting like a madman in the middle of a Muggle London street, so he seized her by the arms and pulled her down the road, determined to find a place to Disapparate to Malfoy manor. He hissed, "Shut up, Granger. You're being stupid."

Inside, though, he was smiling. What kind of thoughts was she thinking?

OOO

…to be continued

AN: I just realized a lot of you really adored comforting!Draco from Chapter 4…hmmm…

As promised, this chapter is longer. I don't know with the "better" part, though.

**Aisling Jace**: _you could always make blaise and hermione have a fling before feelings for draco occurred. _–I was thinking about that, too. I'll see what I can do. No promises, though.

**edraco13**: _Bit confusing though whether Blaise likes Hermione though! _–Ooohh…we'll see…

**redlightspin**: _I don't see what shes complaining about shes got four handsome boys all at her beck and call_ –I know. How I sometimes wish I were Hermione…+sigh+

Hugs and kisses to everyone who read and reviewed!


	7. Train Ride

**Title**: The Flatmate

**Author**: silveris

**Rating**: R

**Warnings**: Not HBP-compatible

**Genre(s):** Post-Hogwarts, slight humor

**Summary**: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.

OOO

**Chapter Seven – Train Ride**

Hermione quietly gazed out the train window. Outside were a peaceful green meadow, a few trees, and a clear blue sky. After nearly fifteen minutes of staring at the tranquil world outside the train, she began to imagine herself running around, grazing the grass and just flinging herself down on a field of bright flowers.

She sighed at the thought.

It had been a long time since she ever let her hair down and went carefree. The last time she danced in the rain she was eleven years old. A decade since she had fun.

Oh, sure she had fun with Harry and Ron, but those times were simultaneously laced with danger and the constant fear of getting expelled…or killed.

She sighed again.

"Silent much, Granger?" Draco piped up.

She didn't bother turning towards him. He was sitting across her, reading The Daily Prophet. He looked uninterested and casually rolled it and tossed it aside.

"Why do we have to take the train, Malfoy?" she asked, still looking out the window.

"So you can see the view. Isn't it just lovely?" he said. He looked out the window, too.

She leaned back on her seat and yawned. "I'm getting bored. If we took a Portkey, we'd be in Scotland by now. I could be touring the town and buying little presents for Harry and Ron."

Draco cast a wondering glance around the compartment. There was nothing there to make fun of or use to keep her awake. He wasn't about to let her just nod off while they were in the train. What would he do for company?

What would Blaise do if they were in their flat?

"I fancied Blaise before, you know that?" she suddenly said.

He jerked his head in her direction to his surprise. _What?_

She was interested in the meadow outside again. "He was so charming when I moved into his flat. He helped me carry my stuff around and he was a great conversationalist."

Draco silently cleared his throat at that.

"So sweet, Blaise," she continued. But then her face hardened in annoyance. "Then he had to go tackle me, rub my head, and stuff. It was almost like he treated me like a younger brother."

She turned to Draco. "Younger _brother_! Not sister. Brother! Would you believe that?" she said incredulously.

Draco fought not to laugh. The result was he looked like he had a bad case of the stomach flu.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, puzzled with his expression.

"Nothing," he said as he pulled a straight face. "Granger, do you think Blaise would've treated you differently had you not pranced around in your ridiculous dressing gown?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "Excuse me? What 'ridiculous dressing gown'?"

"The yellow one with green frogs," he replied.

"How come you know about that?" she asked with her hands on her hips.

"Blaise told me."

Hermione looked livid.

OOO

"What do you do in your office, Granger?" Draco asked. He was leaning his head against the window, his feet propped up on the whole length of his seat.

"I am a guidance counselor of teenage wizards. I guide them and explain the goings of the wizarding world. I correct their mistakes," Hermione said. She was sitting primly across him.

"No, I didn't ask you what do for a living. I asked what you do in your office."

"What? You mean like my routines?"

"That'll do."

Hermione thought for a while. "I greet Shirley before I go into my office. She's usually buried in paperwork so we don't have much time to chat around. Then around midday, I get a visit."

"That Eli kid?"

"Yes, most of the time. If not him, then some other kid. But that rarely happens."

"So what do you do if no one comes to visit?"

"I help Shirley with the papers."

"And what if there are no papers?"

"I nip out for coffee."

"And what if it rains?"

"I…well…"

"What an adventure your job is."

Hermione snapped. "Is that why you're so curious? To make fun of me? Well, excuse me, Malfoy, even though my job isn't exactly saving the world in hardcore action, at least I get to start with the young ones. You should be threatened!"

Draco sat up with an amused expression on his. This annoyed Hermione; to see him so cool when she was practically bursting.

"Threatened, you say?" he asked. He folded his arms across his chest.

"Yes, threatened. If all the teenagers I counseled turned good, you wouldn't have a reason to patrol around, catching criminals in the future, would you?"

"You're mental," Draco said simply.

"Am not!"

"Get a new job, Granger."

"Sod off!"

Before Draco could reply, the train entered a tunnel, plunging them into darkness. Hermione fell silent. She wasn't exactly comfortable while blinded.

Fortunately, the tunnel was a short one. She squinted when the sun peeked in again. She was about to continue the diatribe she reserved for him but he wasn't in his seat anymore. In fact, he wasn't in the compartment at all.

She dashed to the door and opened it. She looked around the aisle but there was no one.

"Malfoy?" she called. No one answered. She peeked in the compartment again but he still wasn't there.

With a frustrated sigh, she walked down the aisle in search for her lost companion.

OOO

A few minutes passed. She had checked every compartment (looked through the windows, more like), she still hadn't found Draco.

She reached the final one and heard a familiar voice. Before she could peek in, the door opened and she was face to face with Vincent Crabbe.

Crabbe didn't seem to recognize her because he just walked past. But the other people did.

"Hermione Granger?" Pansy Parkinson spoke up. She was sitting beside Gregory Goyle who had his arms around her shoulders.

"Oh, er…hello," Hermione sheepishly said.

"Do come in," Pansy said.

"Oh, no thank you—"

"We didn't know you were here. We're going to Scotland for a short visit to Vincent's folks. Then we're off to Ireland to visit mine," Pansy said. She beckoned towards the empty seat, probably where Crabbe sat and said, "Sit down."

Hermione shook her head again. "No, really. I'd love to stay and chat but I was just looking for someone."

"Potter and Weasley?" Pansy asked.

"Malfoy, actually."

Hermione wished she never mentioned Malfoy. Pansy's face fell and the smile faded. "Oh," she said. It wasn't a surprised 'oh'. It was more like an 'oh' that was coupled with an airy and scrutinizing gaze.

"You're with him?" Pansy asked a bit coldly.

"We're traveling together," Hermione replied. She hoped that answer was safe enough.

"Right," Pansy said.

Hermione felt uncomfortable so she hurriedly excused herself and practically ran to where she had come from.

OOO

Hermione returned to the compartment. If Draco wanted to stay lost, then it wasn't her problem.

"Where have you been?" his voice greeted her as she entered. He was back on his seat, a white tray on his lap. There was a tray on her seat, too. Both trays carried an apple, a box that had a chicken drawn on it, a can of Pepsi (She wondered where he got that) and a plastic spoon and fork.

"I just went out to get us something to eat," he said.

She ignored him as she took the tray, sat down, and opened the box. There were cutlets of fried chicken inside it.

"Oh, okay. So you're not talking to me because of that joke," he said.

She still wasn't talking to him.

"And here I was, thinking that getting you Muggle food would be apology enough."

She fumed a bit. Did he think she could buy her forgiveness with a fruit, a chicken, and soda? She wasn't a child.

"Come on, Granger. Smile for me," he said. There was a hint of a plead in his voice, which Hermione noticed. She smiled a bit but kept her eyes on her chicken.

Draco saw this and smiled, too. He resumed to eating quietly.

"Ow!"

Draco's gaze immediately snapped back to her. "What is it?" he asked.

She held up a bleeding finger.

"I cut myself while opening the can," she explained while examining the cut. It was bleeding profusely. It had been a deep cut. She was starting to feel the throbbing from her finger already.

Draco pulled her hand towards him gently and inspected the cut. He ran his fingers along her wounded one before they were once again swallowed by darkness.

Hermione felt him rub his thumb back and forth over her palm. She chose to remain silent. She didn't even move, unsure of what to do. For a few minutes they were silent statues, except for Draco's thumb.

Finally, they passed the tunnel and light splashed on them. Draco stopped his thumb and began to dab on the finger with a white cloth. It was his handkerchief. Hermione didn't know when he took it out. He pressed on the wound a bit and wrapped the cloth around it.

"Stay here. I'll go get a bandaid," he said, looking into her eyes before stalking out of the compartment.

Hermione was left there, wondering what just happened. She looked at her handkerchief-bound hand and a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips.

Then the door opened again, but it was Pansy. The latter sat down on Draco's seat. Before Hermione could ask, Pansy held up a hand and said, "Look, Hermione Granger, I apologize for being a bitch back there."

Hermione looked confused.

"I'm still trying to get used to the fact that I don't own Draco anymore," Pansy continued. Hermione screwed her face a tiny bit when Pansy said she 'owned Draco'. What was he? A toy passed on to another kid? Pansy didn't notice.

"Do you know why we broke up?" Pansy asked, leaning over in a conspiratorial way. Hermione couldn't help but lean in, too.

"You went with Goyle," Hermione said.

"No," Pansy said. "I mean, yes."

"Huh?" Hermione now looked baffled.

"Yes, I broke up with Draco because I've found Gregory to be more competent."

"Competent?"

"Yes, competent."

Hermione regarded that statement for a moment. But it just wasn't clear. So she asked "What do you mean?"

Pansy rolled her eyes and looked at Hermione as though she were a child. "Oh, poor girl. Draco hasn't made a move on you yet, has he?"

"What? No—"

"See what I mean? Draco is incapable of being sweet and mushy," Pansy said, leaning back on the seat. "He thought all I cared about were clothes and shopping and money."

Hermione was about to ask "Don't you?" but Pansy continued. "Yes, I do care about those a great deal, but sometimes I wished he would spend more time with me."

Hermione just nodded. But the next thing Pansy said earned a reaction.

"I think he's gay," Pansy whispered as a finish.

Hermione nearly choked. She laughed despite the curious look Pansy gave her.

"Are you joking?" Hermione asked between fits of laughter.

Pansy huffed and gave her a pitiful gaze. "Oh, Granger. You'll soon see the truth. Believe it or not, that's what I think. Well, I'll best be off."

Hermione didn't notice Pansy cast a sidelong glance at the handkerchief, though. The latter shook her head and exited the compartment.

A few seconds after Pansy left, Draco came back. Hermione had stopped laughing by then but she looked at him strangely. He raised an eyebrow at her when he noticed so she looked out the window again. He sat down and took her hand, then applied the bandaid.

"We're almost there," he told her.

OOO

…to be continued

AN: _Does Blaise have a hand in the recent events?_ Well…you'll soon find out. Maybe around Chapter 11. Patience is a virtue! I promise, the next chapters will hold more DHr action. It'll be an R around Chapter 9, I suppose. We'll see.

Who bets something will happen in Scotland? Or something will happen _after_ Scotland? This is fun.

And I have an explanation about my writing style, since one reviewer brought it to light. The reason I wrote so many dialogues is because that's what happens in my head. Simple as that. And it's much less hassle than explaining in another POV. I also refrained from using too much verbs, adjectives, and highfalutin words such as 'surreptitiously', 'munificent', and such because that would make it hard for some readers who haven't eaten a dictionary yet. So I hope that makes it clear.

Just making reading easy for you. After all, there are thousands of other wonderful Dramione fics to read and I wouldn't want you to get stuck in mine because of some word you couldn't understand.

But of course, if you prefer the flowery jargon, then tell me and I'll do that.

Cheers! Hugs and kisses to everyone who read and reviewed!


	8. The Love Boat

**Title**: The Flatmate

**Author**: silveris

**Rating**: R

**Warnings**: Not HBP-compatible

**Genre(s):** Post-Hogwarts, slight humor

**Summary**: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.

OOO

**Chapter Eight – The Love Boat**

They arrived in magical Scotland around midday. The weather was perfect—cloudy and a bit sunny. Hermione couldn't wait to check out the tourist spots.

Draco was walking behind her. He insisted on carrying all their bags and her luggage to the Portkey area. She wanted to carry her own bag but he was stubborn. And he threatened to kick her (no joke) if she made a grab for it.

They approached a large desk with numerous items lined up neatly. Each item was placed over a white tag that was taped to the desk.

"Grab the one with 'Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy'," he instructed as he shifted his own bag on his shoulders.

Hermione gritted her teeth a bit at what he said but chose to ignore it. She was going to wring Blaise's neck when the latter got back from Italy.

She rummaged around the table and spotted their Portkey. It was a broken watch. It had tattered brown leather straps and a silver face. Its hands weren't moving.

"Here," she said, handing him the other end.

As soon as Draco held the other strap, they felt a pull at their navels and a slight tingling sensation before they were sucked into a void.

OOO

When Hermione opened her eyes (she had closed them to avoid getting dizzy), she and Draco were standing on the porch of a small cottage situated near a beach. There were tall trees at one side and a hammock was tied around two of them.

She gaped in awe at the cottage. It looked quaint, roomy, and peaceful. And the view from the porch was exquisite. The beach looked inviting and…magical. She didn't know there was such a place in the middle of Scotland. Then she remembered the Leaky Cauldron, which was hidden between two buildings in London. Beyond the Leaky Cauldron was Diagon Alley, a truly interesting place for magical folk. She smiled at the thought of knowing something clandestine.

Draco had set the bags down on the floor. He was leafing through a small pamphlet that was halfway inserted under the door.

"'Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, we hope you'll enjoy your stay, yadda-yadda… Please feel free to use the cottage however you like… blah-blah… Your keys are taped on the next page.' Ah," Draco read, turning the page and ripping a gold key from the paper.

He inserted the key into the lock and opened the door.

"Welcome to Scotland, Granger," he said.

Hermione, overcome with excitement, ran into the cottage, ignoring Draco who drawled, "Well, don't mind me. I'll just lug your heavy equipment into your room."

She scampered through a short hall and came upon a light blue door. Curiously, she opened it and her breath was taken away by the sight before her. She twirled around and took note of the surroundings. It was a bedroom with light blue flower prints wallpaper and furniture made of wood. She felt like she was in the Caribbean.

"Is this Scotland?" she asked the room.

Then she walked over to the glass doors leading to the patio. She could see the beach from there. She closed her eyes and felt the soft breeze hit her face.

"This is amazing," she whispered to herself. "I want to live here."

Draco, with her bags, had followed her into the room. He watched her as she silently looked out across the beach.

He trailed her out to the patio and stood beside her for a while, not saying anything. She was closing her eyes and smelling the air. She looked so calm; he didn't want to disturb her.

Hermione felt him beside her but she was too entranced by the relaxing aura of the cottage that she couldn't be bothered to regard his presence.

She wished she could stay there forever. Magical Scotland was wonderful, and she hadn't even gone places yet. The place was a far cry from the hustle-bustle of busy London.

However, before she could imagine herself permanently residing in Scotland, she was pulled out of her reverie by the feel of Draco's hand on hers. She opened her eyes and glanced over to him. He wasn't looking at her. He was just holding her and looking at their clasped hands.

She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks.

She peered at his face for any sign to read what he was doing but he wasn't looking back at her. He was more interested in their hands.

"Malfoy…"

"There," he said, smiling. He let go of her hand. She looked down and realized that he had pulled off the bandaid on her finger.

He tossed the bandaid aside and said, "It's completely healed. Magical bandaids require only an hour or so."

Hermione examined her finger. Indeed, there was no trace of blood, a cut, or a scar.

And there she was, thinking of other things when all he did was remove the stupid bandaid…

She was going to thank him, but the smile on his face stopped her. Then just like that, he turned towards the door, saying, "Let's get something to eat. We're going rowing later."

OOO

They had lunch out on the patio. There was a complimentary basket on the kitchen table so they helped themselves with salad, turkey sandwiches, and butterbeer.

After her second sandwich, Hermione suddenly remembered her meeting his Pansy and the other Slytherins.

"On the train," she started, but Draco cut her off by handing her an envelope he had extracted from his pocket.

"It's from Blaise. Wrote it before he left," he explained before digging into his salad.

Hermione opened the envelope and unfolded the parchment inside.

_Hermione,_

_Enjoy Scotland! It's a really beautiful place. Let Draco show you around. It wouldn't be his first time there._

_Anyway, by the time you read this, I am already in Italy, doing Quidditch-related stuff. You wouldn't be interested much._

_I'm also going to use my free time to visit my old home in Venice and Milan. Mother will be pleased._

_See you soon,_

_Blaise_

"That's the first time he wrote his name down," Hermione observed.

Draco didn't say anything. He also stopped eating. He wasn't touching his food either.

"I wish Blaise were here," she suddenly muttered before she could stop herself.

Draco's eyes narrowed a bit. She didn't see it, but it was there. He pushed his chair back and stood up. "I'm going outside," he said and left hurriedly before she could ask anything.

Hermione mulled over what she said and realized her mistake. She had unintentionally hinted at preferring Blaise over him. He must've thought she wasn't enjoying his company.

Tossing aside her napkin and leaving the envelope on the table, she stood up and ran outside to follow Draco.

OOO

She found him getting on a red boat by the beach.

"Malfoy, wait up!" she called. She ran as fast as she could. He was starting to row away as if he hadn't heard her.

As soon as her feet hit the water, she grabbed on to the boat and climbed aboard. He scowled a bit when she rocked it but he didn't say anything. He just kept rowing and pretended he didn't have a passenger.

"Hey, was it something I said? You just went off," she said slowly.

His expression was hard and he wasn't meeting her eyes. He just kept rowing and looking down at the water.

"I didn't mean to make it sound like I wanted Blaise here instead of you," she explained.

"What makes you think I'm jealous?" he asked coldly.

"I didn't."

_Stupid mouth_, he scolded himself.

"Well, I'm not. I just wanted some time alone. Glad of you to join me," he said sarcastically.

"Alright then. Just pretend I'm not here," she said, leaning back casually.

_What is up with him?_ she asked herself as she scrutinized the way he just kept his gaze on the water.

OOO

A few minutes had passed and they hadn't spoken at all. Then suddenly…

"The Love Boat?" Draco muttered in disgust. He was leaning over to his right and had stopped rowing. Hermione followed his gaze and read 'The Love Boat' painted in chipped white ink over the red of the boat.

"What kind of name is 'The Love Boat'?" he asked. He looked just about ready to puke. He started to row again.

Hermione didn't reply. She just shrugged her shoulders and chuckled at the irony of the situation. Here they were sitting on 'The Love Boat', which was supposed to be quite dreamy, except they were getting into an argument every five minutes.

"I suppose you think this is romantic?" he said.

"What makes you say that?" she asked interestedly. She rested her elbows on her knees and laid her chin on them. She looked at him intriguingly.

Draco continued to row as if he wasn't aware of her staring at him. "Isn't this the kind of set-up you women fantasize about?"

"Fantasize?"

"You know, rowing on a small boat in the middle of a lake. Just the two of you."

"And where did you get that notion?"

"I've seen the books in your mini-library at the flat, Granger."

"Oh."

They continued to row in silence. Soon, the only sound they could hear were the gentle _swoosh_ of the water as Draco skimmed it with the oars.

Hermione shifted her position, stretching her leg across the space between her and Draco.

"Hey, Malfoy, can I give it a try?" she asked, eyeing the oars.

Draco shook his head and gripped the oars tighter. "Not if I can help it," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, these oars are heavy. You might drop them," he said.

"So? You can swim down, can't you?" she asked jokingly. He didn't get the point.

"You're not making me swim today, Granger."

Hermione pouted and stomped one foot on the boat so it swayed dangerously. "Come on, Malfoy. You've had all the fun!"

"Who ever said rowing is fun? All you do is relax and sunbathe. You should be having more fun," he said heatedly. He lent his attention to the shore. There was nothing interesting there.

"Exactly. Now why don't you be a good boy and hand me the oars?" she said slyly. There was even a devious grin on her face. Draco's trust wavered at the sight.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea," he said, shaking his head profusely as she stomped again. This time, water splashed onboard.

Not wanting to take an unscheduled bathe, Draco decided to hand her one oar. She gleefully took it; she looked like a child who was given a large bag of sweets.

Hermione struggled with the oars for a while. He wasn't kidding when he said they were heavy.

"Merlin, what are these made of? Steel?" she gushed. She started to pull it back and forth with great force that the boat swayed even more. She didn't seem to realize what she was doing nor did she notice that were about to fall off if she didn't stop pulling the wrong way.

Draco's knuckles turned white as he gripped the oar and the side of the boat tightly.

"Fuck, Granger, quit it, will you?" he exclaimed.

"Well you didn't tell me how to do this!" she shot back. She had stopped pulling and was already moving it the right way, only the oar didn't seem to go into the water. It just kept splashing around the surface, flinging water onto the boat and eventually, on Draco.

When water hit the side of his face, he leaned towards her and roughly wrestled the oar from her hands.

"Not only can you not cook, you can't keep a relationship, and you can't bloody row a stupid Love Boat, too!" he suddenly cried as he fought to steady the boat.

Hermione was shocked with his outburst. Then she was just offended.

Draco realized what he had just said and looked up. He immediately caught her eyes but when he saw a faint glistening in her eyes, he couldn't speak. She obviously looked hurt, and before he could apologize, she turned around on her seat so her back was to him and remained silent.

Draco would've smacked himself on the head and face but he was holding two oars. So he just inwardly cursed.

_Great going, bozo! You just made up with her and now you go muck it up_, he thought.

He was thankful she didn't bring her wand with her. She would've hexed him right now.

He also knew that if they weren't in the middle of the lake, she would've already stomped off. But then again, she wouldn't even be stomping off because he wouldn't have insulted her for nearly drowning them.

_It was her fault, really_, he rationalized.

He heard her sniff. It was barely audible but he heard it.

_Apologize, you ferret_, the voice in his head commanded. _She didn't mean any harm._

_She tried to drown me_, the other voice said.

_No, she didn't It was an accident_, the first one countered.

Draco cleared his throat and carefully started, "Granger?"

She didn't reply. She sniffed again.

"Granger, look…"

She bent her head down to rest on her arms.

"Er…sorry about that. What I said. It was out of place. I didn't mean it that way."

She wasn't talking but by the way she stopped sniffing, he knew she was listening intently.

_How will I do this? Merlin, help me! I never had these episodes with Pansy._

He glanced around and his gaze fell on the bar they had passed when they arrived. He noticed her reading the posters outside its windows. She seemed interested.

"What if I take you dancing tonight?" he asked. He had his fingers crossed. He would knock his head off if she laughed at his offer. He wasn't the sort to ask women out for dancing. He thought that was more of the kind of thing Harry and Weasley would do.

Her ears perked up. She even looked up a bit.

"You can dress up and look all dolled up. We can go for drinks and," he paused to swallow, "maybe dance. Would that be okay?"

His stomach flipped when her head did an unmistakable nod.

OOO

…to be continued

AN: My eyes are so heavy. I seriously need to sleep. It's almost midnight. If there's seriously something wrong with this chapter, do inform me and I'll correct it in the morning. I really need to rest now.

The next chapter will be the one you're all dying to read…I guess. So I hope I won't mess it up.

Cheers! Hugs and kisses to everyone who read and reviewed!


	9. The Night of Nights

**Title**: The Flatmate

**Author**: silveris

**Rating**: R

**Warnings**: Not HBP-compatible

**Genre(s):** Post-Hogwarts, slight humor

**Summary**: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.

OOO

**Chapter Nine – The Night of Nights**

OOO

When Hermione stepped out of her room, Draco's breath hitched at his throat. She was wearing an elegant black top that resembled the style of her nightgown. His reaction to that was pretty much the same. The white skirt she had on wasn't too bad either. And the way she managed her hair to fall in soft curls…

He immediately looked away and chose a spot on the wall to be interested in.

In her excitement to go dancing, she was talking to him again. He greatly considered backing out. After all, the reason he invited her was so she wouldn't ignore him. Now that she had forgotten about the incident on 'The Love Boat', he regretted suggesting the most stupid thing.

"This is going to be so fun," she said. She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door.

He wasn't bad-looking in Hermione's opinion. He cleaned up pretty well. He had on a crisp white button-down shirt and black pants. He looked laid-back, especially when she saw that he was wearing sandals instead of his black shoes.

He sighed as he let her pull him towards the bar.

OOO

The bar was no different from the ones in London. It was full of people, mostly Scottish who were talking so fast that neither Hermione nor Draco understood what they were saying. The lights were a haze of red, blue, green, and all the other colors of the rainbow.

They chose a table at the corner beside the stage. They hadn't even properly sat when Hermione stood up again and exclaimed, "Oh my god, I love this song!"

Draco sulked at his misfortune. It was a slow song. Surely she didn't expect him to dance?

Without waiting for his consent, she tugged on his arm and pulled him towards the dance floor.

"Granger, I don't think—"

"You promised to take me dancing," she said as she guided his hands to her waist. "Don't tell me you're a liar."

He didn't say anything. She seemed contented and soon they were swaying to the music.

There weren't a lot of couples around. There were a few older couples, married, most likely, and there were two teenagers. Young love.

Around the middle of the song, Hermione leaned forward and placed her head on his shoulder.

His heart began to beat faster. She was getting too mushy for his liking. He wasn't used to it, except when he was comforting her after that night in the flat. He had a reason. This time, there was none. She was just feeling the music, he guessed.

He caught a whiff of her perfume and without thinking he closed his eyes, leaned down, and rested his cheek against her head. He felt her shift a bit but she relaxed again.

They stayed that way, swaying under the dizzying disco lights to a slow jam.

"Do you want to drink something?" he asked her after a while.

She was in the middle of imagining herself dancing with a prince. His voice snapped her out of it. "Huh?" she asked.

"The song's done. Do you want to sit while I get drinks?" he asked. They were still in the same position while the other dancers were filing back to their seats.

"Yeah," she said, gently stepping back from him. She didn't meet his eyes. She was a bit tense after the dance.

"Alright. Go sit and I'll be back," he said, lightly squeezing her hand before going to the bar.

Hermione returned to their table and sat down. She rested her cheek on her hand and began to daydream about her prince again, when another person sat on Draco's seat.

It was Pansy again.

"Hello, Hermione," Pansy greeted. She was dressed in a revealing red cocktail dress and she had a martini in one hand.

"Pansy!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise.

"I saw you dancing with your husband," Pansy said intriguingly. She sipped her martini and threw a sly grin at Hermione. "I saw your Portkey label at the station. You didn't tell me you were married."

"No, Pansy—"

"Considering we just broke up a few days ago, it's pretty quick of him to find a new woman. And he married!"

"Pansy, it's not what you think."

"Oh, it's alright if you two had an affair while we were together," Pansy continued. There was a slight trace of bitterness in her voice, which was then masked by her slurping the martini.

"I always knew Draco had something else going on. Ever since I saw that shirt he bought for Blaise. 'My Roommate is Hot!', really. It was pretty obvious. I didn't believe him when he said Blaise specifically asked for that design," Pansy said. She shook her head as she watched the two teenagers dance to a song played on bagpipes.

"So I was wrong. He isn't gay. But I bet he isn't into honesty and loyalty, either," Pansy said, finishing her martini. "Anyway, I have to go. Greg and I have…business. See you around, Granger."

Then she left, her bottom sashaying side to side as she passed a group of Scottish lads who were leaning against the wall.

Draco came back with two glasses. One was a bubbly yellow liquid, and the other one was slushy pink drink. He gave her the pink one and said it had strawberries.

"Pansy was just here," Hermione informed him.

Draco stopped sipping his drink and looked unhappy. Then he smiled and said, "Really? Was she with Crabbe and Goyle?"

"They were on the train. I met them when I went out to look for you."

"Oh. Are they staying here, too?"

"Not for long. They're going to visit Crabbe's family."

Draco was silent for a while as he sipped again.

"Well, good for them," he said finally. "Drink up. You might want to dance again later."

Hermione examined his expression for a while. She was thankful for the moving lights because he didn't notice her stealing glances at him. His usual uncaring expression was back on again.

She hoped another slow song would play.

OOO

Unfortunately, the songs for the rest of the night were fast and giddy. Hermione made Draco dance to a particularly lively one, but they sat down after a minute when a very rowdy pair stomped around, not caring for the other dancers.

Hermione suggested they return to their cottage when they finished their third glass of fruit drinks.

Draco realized it was way too early to sleep yet. They were on vacation so they had to make use of every hour…and every open bar.

"Go get a sweater," he told her.

"What for?" she asked, her hand on the doorknob already.

"We're going to take a walk outside," he explained before going into his room.

OOO

Draco walked a few steps ahead of Hermione. They were walking along the length of the beach. She had her arms crossed on her chest while he had his hands on his pocket, walking as if he were alone. Except he was talking to her.

"Tell me, Granger, if it's not too much bother, what happened between you and that bloke?" he asked.

"Cormac?"

He nodded.

"Just like sixth year. He was too fresh, too bold. He came on a bit too strong for me."

"How come you got back with him recently?"

"I thought he changed," she said it like the answer was obvious. "People change, Malfoy. I gave him a second chance. So he changed, alright; he got more airheaded."

Draco sniggered. "Have you been with anyone else?"

"There was Viktor."

"Krum."

"Yes, him. But after Hogwarts, I realized a long-distance relationship just wasn't going to work. Then I had a three-month long relationship with Oliver Wood."

Draco stopped in his tracks and turned his head back to her. Cocking an eyebrow in surprise, he asked, "Oliver Wood? The former Gryffindor Quidditch captain?"

"That's him."

"The Keeper-for-Puddlemere-United-before-he­-got-taken-on-for-the-Ireland-Quidditch-team Oliver Wood?"

"That's right," Hermione said, puzzled with his questioning.

He took a moment to look at her. He imagined her with the famous heartthrob (women dig Quidditch players) and shook his head slightly.

"But it wasn't even in the tabloids," he said.

"Oliver didn't want the public to know he had a girlfriend. Said he might lose female fans," Hermione explained. There was a slight strain in her voice as she said that.

Draco put two and two together, and a look of understanding crossed his face. "Oh, so that's why you broke up?"

Hermione nodded. "I couldn't be in that kind of a relationship. Oliver was great, but he was too great. Do you get that?"

Draco smiled and nodded his head. Then he turned and continued to walk. He felt the uneasy atmosphere so he decided to liven it up.

"You should've just gone for Weasley."

After having said so, he missed a rock protruding from the sand and nearly tumbled. Hermione dashed towards him and pulled his hand. Luckily, he still had good reflexes and was able to save himself before he blundered like a fool in the middle of the beach.

Embarrassed but still proud, he stood upright with his chin held high and looked around. Coast was clear. No one saw except her.

"That was so priceless!" she suddenly said, laughing so hard she was clutching her stomach.

"Was not! Didn't anybody tell you it's rude to laugh at other people's mistakes?" he huffed indignantly.

"Look who's talking!" she shot back, grinning.

He growled and noticed she was still holding his hand. In fact, their fingers were interlaced. She didn't appear to notice or mind, so to abuse the situation, he pulled her and said, "Shut up! Keep walking."

Hermione was aware that they were holding hands but she wasn't complaining. He wasn't hurting her anyway. In fact, his hold was gentle and she liked the warmth his hand was spreading. His grip was light, almost telling her that she had the choice to pull away or stay.

After a few minutes of silence and walking, Draco spoke up again. He pointed to the distance ahead of them with his free hand and said, "Look there. It's another bar. Let's go get a drink."

OOO

Two hours later and a dozen glasses of spiked wine later, Hermione and Draco were back in the cottage. Clearly, they were drunk. Draco didn't look so wasted, but he kept nodding off in a sleepy drunk sort of way.

They had spent the last few hours drinking and talking about their jobs. Hermione was letting her steam off regarding the miscreant Eli Weston and how she wished she could just chuck the boy to Azkaban. Draco followed by telling her accounts of his action-packed job as Auror. He even stood up and pretended to blast things away with his wand as a demonstration of the raids he had been in.

When the bartender, a wizened man in a plaid shirt and kilt, noticed that the couple was getting too intoxicated, he sent them off back to their cottage.

Hermione headed towards the living room and plopped down on the floor.

"My life is crap, Malfoy," she cried. She was wiping away tears with the back of her hand.

Draco strode over and slowly knelt down in front of her. He groped around the floor to steady himself, careful not to accidentally topple her over. He was getting a bit tipsy himself. He wished he never had the extra three glasses.

"My job sucks lollipops. My last relationship flopped like a fish on a stove, barely even lasted a week! I can't row a bloody Love Boat. I can't dance—"

"Yes, you can," Draco said quietly. He was recalling the way they swayed on the dance floor with her hands around his neck. "You didn't step on my feet."

"Oh, okay. I'm a dancing queen," she mumbled, laughing a bit. She had stopped crying already and was already holding on to Draco's arms for support.

He watched her as she shifted around and finally settled for sitting on her legs like he was. Her hands didn't leave his arms, though.

"You can dance, too," she said. And surprising the drunk Draco, she winked at him, laughed, and lost balance so she fell all over his chest. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around her and was almost ecstatic when she didn't make a move to right herself.

Instead, she even unfolded her knees and stretched them so she was practically leaning on him with her arms around his torso.

"Hmm…this is nice," she muttered, snuggling against him even more.

"Granger…"

"You're warm."

Draco registered what she said but it didn't make much sense to him. Draping herself around him didn't sober him up one bit. He even thought, for a tiny moment, it was all a dream.

But then she suddenly said, "I feel sleepy."

Those words were enough to pull Draco an inch back into the real world. With a grunt, he pulled her up to her feet with him and dragged her into her bedroom.

He opened the door with much difficulty. He had to hold her still or she would fall down. She was mumbling something incoherent and doing animated gestures with her hands, which distracted him.

Finally, they were inside the light blue-themed room.

"Oooh, blue!" she exclaimed. "Hey, did you hear that? It rhymed!"

Draco nodded and guided her towards her bed. Although she did say she was sleepy, she didn't seem to want to go to bed. She wrapped her arms around Draco again and rested her head against his chest.

"Go to sleep, Granger," he said tiredly. But he wasn't doing anything. He was too tired to try to pry her off him. They just stood there, embracing, at the side of her bed.

"It's hot. I can't sleep," she said after a while. Draco looked down and saw that her eyes were closed. He also felt one of her hands rubbing his back softly.

"Then take off your sweater. I'll open the window," he said. He made a move to peel her arms off him, but she held on tighter.

"I can't. My arms feel heavy," she complained.

_No wonder you're holding on to me so tightly_, he thought sarcastically.

Rolling his eyes and praying she doesn't snap out of her drunkenness, he said, "Fine, I'll help you off your sweater. Then you can go sleep, alright?"

She nodded and released her death grip on him. She stepped back a bit and held her arms up her head. He took hold of the hem of her sweater and pulled it up.

He saw the black top she wore earlier that night. Somehow, he felt a sudden urge to strip her of that top, too. He mentally kicked his ass.

He felt a bit guilty for helping her undress but he reasoned that she wasn't going naked at all. He was just helping her take off her thick sweater. He wasn't going to make a move on her or abuse her drunken state.

She wiggled a bit so she could free her head. The movement caused her chest to bounce a bit. Draco groaned and closed his eyes as he continued to pull the sweater off.

Keeping his eyes closed, he tossed the sweater aside and made to turn around. However, before he could even move or open his eyes, he felt something wet graze the corner of his mouth.

"What—" he started to say, eyes wide in shock, but was stopped when she pulled him in by his collar and roughly pressed her lips against his properly.

He momentarily stood in shock, eyes still open. Then she started to apply pressure against his lips. That was enough to send his sober self off the edge. Slowly, his eyes drifted shut and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He opened his mouth slightly, enough to nibble on her lower lip with his teeth. He felt her smile, and then gave him access to her mouth. He wasted no time and plunged his tongue into her wet cave. He tasted strawberries, probably from her drink.

She wrapped her arms around his neck so she could stand on her tiptoe and press her lips even closer to his. He helped her by pulled her tightly against him.

Suddenly, they both lost balance and were sent crashing down on the bed. He didn't have time to pull away so when they hit the bed, his weight on her came down and made their lips and teeth clash together a bit hard.

He pulled back to touch his aching mouth, but she held his head in place and kissed his swollen lips lightly, smiling.

"You're drunk," he said.

"So are you."

"I should go."

"No, stay. We're not done yet."

He studied her face for a moment. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were red from their previous activity, and there was a mad glint in her brown eyes. He was looking at him with…was it lust? Passion? He didn't get to study more because she used her hand to push him back down towards her for a short kiss.

When he looked at her again, she nodded slightly.

That was all he needed.

OOO

…to be continued

AN: That's it! I tried to keep it light R. Hope it worked. Had this been NC-17, I would've gone on and finished the night.

I didn't know what I was writing by the end (read: inexperienced +snigger+). This chapter was the hardest one to write!

I need to relax. I'm not sure if I can do Chapter 10 right away, though. I have voice and dance recitals, and rehearsals are taking up my time. I'm just thankful I get to use the computer at 5 AM so I could write the previous chapters.

There are three or four more chapters left, so stick with me 'til the end, k? And not to worry, Dramione shippers. This isn't going to turn into a threesome or a BHr. .

Love you all! Mwahugs to everyone who read and reviewed!


	10. Morning After

**Title**: The Flatmate

**Author**: silveris

**Rating**: R

**Warnings**: Not HBP-compatible

**Genre(s):** Post-Hogwarts, slight humor

**Summary**: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.

OOO

**Chapter Ten – Morning After**

Hermione woke up with a ringing in her head. Her arms felt heavy and she couldn't move her legs. She felt something stuck in her throat but when she swallowed, she realized it was just the dryness.

She sat up and rubbed her head, groaning.

Then she saw that she was wearing nothing but her brassiere and knickers. She never slept in her underwear.

A hazy flashback played in her mind. It wasn't clear but she got the idea. She remembered drinking in the bar, bright lights, Pansy with a martini, the beach, holding Draco's hand…

Draco…

She remembered him enter her bedroom. Then he took his shirt off. The last thing she could make out of the memory was him looking down at her with his silver eyes with an unknown emotion reflected in them. She felt a light feeling fluttering around her whole body.

She scanned her room. He wasn't there. He wasn't on her bed. Was it just a dream? What kind of dream was that? It seemed so real. And why was she in her underwear?

Slowly, she slid off the bed and went to the closet to rummage around for a simple shirt and shorts to dress. She crossed the room and went out, making her way towards the young man's quarters.

What was she going to do if he opened the door? She gulped then knocked.

There was no answer. She knocked again, but still no answer.

"Where could he be?" she wondered aloud. Then she thought of the patio. Quickly, she strode over to the glass doors by the living room, and indeed, he was there. He was leaning back on his chair. He had dark sunglasses on (she recognized it as Blaise's) and was looking up at the sky. He didn't see her follow him outside.

When Draco heard the scraping of chair legs against stone, he sat up straight and turned towards Hermione who had taken the seat across him by the table.

She knew he was looking at her even though he still had the glasses on, and somehow it intimidated her.

"Er—good morning," she greeted.

He seemed shocked at her greeting. He cocked his head back a bit and it looked like he was studying her face before he nodded and returned her greeting.

"So, where're we going today?" she continued slowly. She inspected her fingernails for dirt. There was none, but she kept on staring at them interestedly.

"Uh, I was thinking we'd go have lunch at Loch Ness Dome. It's a restaurant under the lake," he replied. He sounded like he rehearsed it before. She didn't point that out.

"Oh, okay," she said, bobbing her head a bit.

He didn't speak after that. But he was still looking at her. She felt his gaze penetrate her skull so she tore her attention away from her uninteresting fingernails and unto him.

Unfortunately, it was hard to concentrate on him when he had large black sunglasses on. She could see her reflection, and it wasn't lovely. She had forgotten to comb and her shirt was crumpled.

So she instead turned her attention lower—to his shirt. It was white. It was large. Nothing printed on it. It was boring. Her gaze shifted lower where she could see blue boxers through the glass table.

Then she remembered why she was looking for him.

Swallowing hard again, she started, "Last night, we drank a lot, didn't we?"

He tensed up but nodded.

"Then we came back here?"

Nod.

"But we walked along the beach before that?"

Nod.

"Did something…" she asked, but found that she suddenly lost her words. This was awkward. She gained interest in her nails again.

"Something happened last night," he finished for her.

She was taken back by the sound of his voice that she nearly jumped in her seat.

"What? Pardon me?" she asked, unsure of what she just heard. She looked back at the glasses again.

"Something happened last night between us," he repeated. To her relief (or not), he removed the glasses. She was greeted with the sight of the same silver eyes from her memory. Her legs began to feel jelloid, and her heart skipped a beat.

He seemed unperturbed by what he had just said. He explained for her, "It'll be our secret, if that's how you want it. I mean, it wasn't as if it was planned. It just happened. We were drunk."

Hermione tore her eyes away from his and looked out at the beach. It was so peaceful, unlike the inside of her head. She began to breathe a bit deeper.

"Are you alright?" he asked, peering at her face. She was beginning to pale.

"No," she said honestly.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No."

"Is it because of last night?"

Obviously. "Yes."

"Is it me?"

She couldn't get herself to answer. If she said yes, she'd be lying. Deep inside, she knew it wasn't his fault. He would've backed out if he saw uncertainty in her. He wasn't the type to abuse the situation. She knew.

If, however, she said no, then she'd be admitting that what transpired last night was perfectly fine, which was not, because she hardly remembered any details.

She chose to avoid the question altogether.

"Do you regret it?" she asked instead.

Surprisingly, he shook his head. She had no answer to that. She was still trying to analyze what he was trying to do to her.

OOO

After an awkwardly silent breakfast of croissants and coffee, Hermione went back to her room to change. Draco said they were going to explore the nearby village. They might also shop for souvenirs.

As she stepped under the shower and allowed the warm water to soak her naked form, she closed her eyes and replayed the scraps of memory from last night.

"How did it all happen?" she asked herself. "Why can't I remember?"

She chastised herself for over-analyzing things. It wasn't as if it was her first time. She had been with Viktor and Cormac. What would make Draco any different?

_I can't remember the bloody details_, she answered. _Was he any good? Was I?_

A blush crept to her cheeks at the last thought.

Hermione quickly finished her shower and a few minutes later, she was back in the living room, dressed in a white blouse and blue shorts. Draco was already waiting for her. He was still in his boring white shirt but he had green cotton pants on.

He checked her out for a few seconds, and before she could notice, he headed out towards the door.

OOO

Draco and Hermione had to take the Floo to Loch Ness Dome. They used the grate in the bar and after a few seconds of twirling around with ash, they stepped out into a luxurious hall.

"Wow," Hermione muttered as she looked around. Loch Ness Dome was made out of glass from the dome itself to the floor. She felt a bit uneasy. They were looked like they were floating in middle of the lake in half a bubble. Under the feet, she could see nothing else but water and a few fish. She tapped her foot against the glass floor lightly.

"Don't worry, the glass is sturdy," Draco said, sensing her nervousness. He smiled at her and she smiled back, relieved.

A waiter dressed in black coat and tie approached them. Draco talked to the waiter while Hermione was busy looking around the glass. The waiter then led them to a table near the wall. Draco helped Hermione to her seat as the waiter left to get their food.

"You pre-ordered?" Hermione asked.

"I hope you don't mind. This place is pretty tight. I even had to book ahead so we could get seats," he said sheepishly.

"It's fine. It's beautiful here," she said, looking out towards the wall again. It was all blue with a few schools of colorful (and sometimes weird) fish swimming by.

"Too bad Nessie's not around this time of the year," he said after a while.

"Huh?"

"The Loch Ness Monster. It's Kelpie, did you know that?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. I read that back in first year," she replied, smiling.

"I forgot. You were the bookworm."

She reached out and lightly punched his arm. He chuckled.

"Maybe next time when we come back, it'll swim by," he said.

Hermione nodded slowly. _Next time when we come back?_

Draco didn't seem to notice what he had just said. He continued to study the group of pink and purple fishes swimming outside. They were forming shapes, the previous one being a heart.

OOO

"Could there be a telephone here?" Hermione asked once they neared the bar. They had just gotten back from Loch Ness Dome. They ate nearly everything in the menu. Draco didn't know what she wanted so he ordered a bit of everything. They were stuffed.

Draco shrugged and said, "We could try inside. Who're you calling?"

"Harry. Just checking up on them," she explained, smiling as they entered the bar and approached the bartender.

The old man smiled at them.

"Hi, do you have a telephone I could use?" Hermione asked.

"Surely," he replied, reaching under the table and extracting a phone.

"Thanks," Hermione said, picking up the receiver and dialing. The bartender nodded and walked to the backroom while wiping a glass with a rag.

Draco strolled over to a table and waited there. She might want some privacy.

There was ringing for a few seconds before the other line picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Harry! Guess who?"

"Hi, Hermione! Guys, it's Hermione!"

Hermione could hear other voices in the background. They were cheering. She smiled.

"Who were those?" she asked.

"The team. Ron says he misses you. We all do."

"Well, I miss you, too. How've you been? Are you busy?"

"We just finished lunch. We're staying over at Blaise's grandmother's villa! She makes the best lasagna!"

There was cheering again and Hermione could faintly hear an old woman's voice.

"How's Scotland?" Harry asked.

"It's…wonderful. We're not done going around yet. Do you want me to get you anything from here?"

Harry's voice sounded far away, "Guys, Hermione asks if there's anything you'd want her to bring back from Scotland!"

Hermione's eyes widened as she heard united yelling of orders from the team.

Harry came back, chuckling. "We'll just send you a list through Hedwig."

"Harry! If you're going to make me lug packages for all of you, you're going to have to bring me back some Zabini-made lasagna."

"Done!" Harry paused, obviously talking to someone beside him. "Hermione, someone wants to talk to you."

"Alright," she said.

"Hello?"

"Blaise?"

"Hi, flatmate!"

"Blaise, I miss you!"

"Me, too. Wish you were here. I told Granny all about you and she really wants to meet you. Italy's great! I miss it here."

"It's wonderful, you're enjoying yourself. Take care of Harry and Ron, alright?"

"Will do. So how's Draco?"

"He's fine. We're walking around, here and there."

"Did he do something bad?"

Hermione's stomach flipped. "W-what?"

"Did he like snore really loud that you can hear him from the other room?"

"No," she said, relieved.

"Good. So, have fun in Scotland. We'll call you later."

"Alright. Bring me something from Italy," she added.

"I won't forget it. I really miss you, bye."

"Miss you, too. Bye."

Then she hung up.

When she turned around to Draco, she was surprised to see him standing just a few steps from her. There was a pained expression on his face. But before she could ask him what was bothering him, he scowled, turned, and walked away, kicking a chair to the side in the process.

OOO

…to be continued

AN: _Why not make it NC-17?_ I would've wanted to, but I'm afraid I'd blotch the story up if I made it NC-17. I've written one, but it's for the DMHG Fic Exchange, and until I receive good reviews from it, I won't be writing NC-17 yet.

_Is Pansy Draco in disguise?_ That had me laughing. But no, Pansy is Pansy, and Draco is his usual handsome heartthrobness…er…

Love you all! Mwahugs to everyone who read and reviewed!


	11. Knowing All

**Title**: The Flatmate

**Author**: silveris

**Rating**: R

**Warnings**: Not HBP-compatible

**Genre(s):** Post-Hogwarts, slight humor

**Summary**: Blaise and Hermione are flatmates. Blaise and Draco are best buds. One night, the flat gets burglarized just as Blaise, Harry, and Ron are leaving for Italy. They can't leave Hermione to fend for herself, so Draco suggests she go with him on his three-day vacation to Scotland.

OOO

**Chapter Eleven – Knowing All**

Hermione caught up with Draco before he could enter the sanctuary of his room. She grabbed him by the arm and turned him around to face her.

"What is your problem?" she asked exasperatedly.

He frowned at her question. She made it sound like he was the only one doing anything wrong.

"Am I not enough for you?" he asked angrily, advancing on her frail frame and taking hold of her shoulders so he could shake her. "What does Blaise have that I don't?"

"What?" she asked. She determinedly looked back at his blazing eyes, which had sadly turned a dull gray. She could feel tears form on her own and soon her vision turned a bit blurry, but she was firm to not let them fall.

"Do I bore you so much that you have to constantly wish for other company?" he continued, tightening his grip on her shoulder that it hurt. She didn't wince, though. However, he noticed that she was on the verge of tears so he released her, pushed her away roughly, and took a step back.

He paced around for a moment while she remained silent and contemplative. She was scared enough to want to Apparate out of his sight, but she knew she couldn't just leave him.

He stopped pacing and faced her again. His face was red and furious. It was impossible to imagine that they had just walked around Scotland laughing.

"I went rowing with you even though I didn't want to go out in the sun. I danced for the first time in my life because I wanted to make you smile again. I even held your hand just to make you feel romantic and shit while we toured this bloody place," he said, glaring at her furiously, blaming her for everything.

Hermione wanted to speak but when he glowered at her, she found that she couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"All day you were talking about Blaise this and Blaise that. How do you suppose I'd take it? What if I talked about Pansy in front of you all fucking day?" he breathed out. "You make me feel so useless and inadequate, you know that, _Granger_?" he said. There was a glint of malice in his eyes when he noticed she flinched when he spat her name out like venom.

She couldn't take it anymore. She took a step towards him and when he didn't get away, she said, "I didn't mean it that way. I just miss Blaise like I miss Harry and Ron."

He turned his back to her to show that he wasn't listening. Then he continued, "Do you know that I wrote that letter to Shirley?"

He heard her gasp.

"Yes, it was me. Not Blaise. _I_ wrote that we were going on a honeymoon. _I_ made sure we rode the slow train instead of the quick Portkey. _I_ chose this cottage, which is farther from the rest." He spun around back to her. "Yes, Granger, it was all planned out."

Hermione looked at him incredulously. "_You_ did all this? You planned the other night, too, didn't you?"

"No!" Draco exclaimed a bit too loudly. "I never trick women into bed."

Angry now, she asked, "Then why did you do all this? Is this your idea of a sick twisted joke? Because I'm not laughing."

He looked like he was about to slap her but he restrained himself by balling his hands into fist and keeping them behind his back.

"What is it then, Malfoy? What game are you trying to win?" she asked, goading him on. "What is—"

"Shut up, Granger! I took you here to see if my feelings for you were real," he suddenly burst out. He was tired of her accusations. She looked like a deer staring at headlights. He began to relax a bit and continued in a softer tone, "Apparently, they were."

"Wha—"

"But I also found out that you don't feel the same."

Hermione closed her mouth. Draco looked forlorn as he bowed his head in shame; confessions weren't his thing.

"And it's because of Blaise. Or you just don't like me at all. I would've wanted to take this a level up, but…" he stopped to exhale heavily. "Anyway, the next Portkey is in two hours. You can take it. I'll be staying here for a while."

With one last dejected glance at her, Draco turned and stomped back to his room, slamming the door behind him and making Hermione step back. She wanted to follow him inside, but the sound of angry growls, breaking glass, and furniture being kicked and thrown against the wall made her cringe in fear.

OOO

Draco spent the whole afternoon cooped up in his now messy room. Broken vases and splinters of the chair he took apart with his bare hands littered the floor.

_She must've gone back to London by now_, he thought. He guessed nearly four hours had passed.

With a heavy heart, he stood up and went out to the patio. As usual, the beach was as peaceful as it had been a few hours earlier. He sighed and climbed the railings. He was going to the bar for a drink.

OOO

A few shots of Ogden's later, Draco had his head against the table, weak and weary, his arms covering his face.

"Stupid bitch," he muttered. "I'm an idiot. Never should've told her…"

"Oh, honey, don't beat yourself up," a woman's voice cooed. He felt her take the seat next to hit. She was sitting awfully close that he could feel her chest rubbing against his arm.

Draco guessed it was one of the hookers he and Hermione noticed the other night. He didn't bother looking up. He just groaned and said, "Leave me alone."

"Can't pay for your drink?" she continued. Draco felt something nudge his leg. It was the woman's foot.

"I'm rich. I can buy this world if I want," he mumbled.

"Except her?"

Draco felt his heart being squeezed ruthlessly. _Yeah, except her_.

"Leave me alone," he repeated.

The woman began to caress his hair. Her foot also continued rubbing along his leg. "You can buy me, you know. If you want to."

Draco sighed. He wasn't in the mood to push anyone around anymore. "Look, woman. I'm not interested, got it? I'm not in the mood. I've just got my guts ripped out, my heart stomped on, rejected for the first time, and now I'm left alone in this bloody place. So why don't you be a darling, and do the same?"

The woman stopped touching him. Then she spoke, but in a different voice. A familiar one. "So, you weren't lying, then?"

In shock, Draco looked up and came face to face with Hermione. She had a small smile on her lips.

He kept opening and closing his mouth in search for words but none came out. She was supposed to be back in London. Where was the woman who talked to him?

She chuckled lightly and took his hand in hers.

"Let's take a walk," she said.

OOO

…to be continued

AN: Short. This chapter felt a bit cheesy…tell me what you think.

Lots of love for readers and reviewers!


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